Don't Be Late


My child is dying

Having been shot in the chest

Crimson everywhere

On my clothes and my hands

I hold him in my arms

As I dial 911

I say "Please hurry,

My child is bleeding to death."

They say they'll

Be on their way

It seems like

It takes hours

My child is having labored breathing

He is fading fast

Please hurry up

You damn ambulance

If my child dies

I cannot live on

If my child dies

I'll shoot myself too

Then you'll have two bodies

To deal with

You'll have more work

If you're late

So don't be late