City Hell

Dark, dank back streets
In the corner
Color doesn't exist
Nothing has detail
Everything is blurred
Cars drive by in the background
Water is dripping
Turning the dirt to mud
The rats scurry around
The sound is quiet
But it echoes

Crying
Scrunched up
Pants wet
Feet muddy
Arms cold
Fingers numb

Gun fire heard
Warmth runs down my face
Sweatshirt stained
Eyes roll back
Today's a good day
To be dead