Innocent loss

I am telling my story,

from a place that is foreign 

to me.

It is dark and lonely here

and i fear that it is a place

where fourteen year old

children are not ment to

be.

Mom and dad always worry

if i'm not home on time.

They consistently remind me

that this world is full of crime.

Attempting to stay to the right

when your friends choose

the left.

Sometimes makes it difficult to

always do your best. 

Seems as though i am stuck

here for a while can hear 

weeping from somewhere near

by.

Where the sound comes from 

i do not know. But it is vaguely

familiar that much is clear.

What is most puzzling to me

is how i ever got here.

Seems like forever since i kissed

mom or shook my dads hand.

And why don't they answer

when i cry out from this foreign 

land?

My moms gonna fuss about the hole

in my shirt.Like when i play football

and get covered in dirt.

My name is Trayvon Martin

can't find my way home.

Lost my ice tea and skittles

and can't find my phone.