A shot
rang out in Philadelphia,
The car
didn’t stop, but their hearts did.
No reason
at all for the madness,
No reason
or cause,
No drugs,
no women, just death.
The wild
streets of Philly.
And
although we could not hear the shot, or feel the cold bullet pass,
We read
the pain in their faces from the photograph in the paper on a Sunday afternoon
over bagels and large glasses of orange juice.
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