Wrong Colors Poem by Lamar Cole

Wrong Colors



He cried, don't kill me brothers.
They said, too bad you have on the wrong colors.
He knew that it was insane.
But they thought that he was in a rival gang.
They shot him in the nose.
It is a bad thing getting killed over clothes.

Thursday, October 3, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: people
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kumarmani Mahakul 10 October 2019

Brilliant expression. Beautiful poem.

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