The mural
It brings me great sadness as I reminiscence
As an artist, I never imagined I'd be part of this madness
I
just left a funeral, now I'm painting a mural for a fallen friend of mine
For
me it’s hard when I realize this young star created by God will no longer shine
A
young mother of two on her way home alone tried to live her life to the fullest
All
the dreams she followed, now she won’t see tomorrow because of a few stray
bullets
In
the wrong place at the wrong time is the line that comes to mind
My
soul is aching my heart is breaking for the children she left behind
Young
boys left to grow to be men without the possibility of having mom as a friend
Children
can’t comprehend, as a grown man I don’t understand why her life had to end
So with each stroke of my brush tears inside I cry for a person who was
close to me
I
ask God why he chose me; no answer, perhaps this is the way it is suppose to be
As
I pick up a can of paint that sprays, I again wonder why young life had to end
this way
One
of God’s singing angels silenced by the violence that took place yesterday
With
her blood the sidewalk is tainted, people gather to talk as the mural was
painted
Tears
flowed on a familiar face that obviously didn’t know; the person later fainted
Respects
were paid in the form of flowers laid means plenty people will miss her
I’m sure they’ll never be none more than me; my soul is
empty without my older sister.
Written by
Emerson
Welch