Body count:
1–1–3–4
Not much less,
Nor many more.
Fated souls,
Shot & killed.
Drops of blood,
Shed & spilled.
Innocent? Maybe.
Guilty? Some say.
All were black;
None were gray.
How many Mums are lonely tonight,
Won’t get to stop & hold them tight?
How many kids stare at the wall,
Don’t really know what happened at all?
Body count:
1–1–3–4
Let’s all pray
It don’t happen no more.
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