They exchanged words that fanned the flames of vitrol.
Their brotherhood consumed by the fire that ensued.
Those same hands that once welcomed him like a brother, shoved him backwards violently.
While time froze and thoughts scattered.
The gun tucked in his waist murdered his naiveté.
Copyright © 2016 ShunPwrites. All Rights Reserved
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Published by Shun P. Writes
Author, Genealogist, Writer, Poet, Podcast Host, possessor of 2 cents, Blogger and eternal student of life, who harbors a firm belief in his Grandmother's mantra that:
"People need to get off of their rump and do something".
All while keeping in mind that a cheering section will often get in the way.
View all posts by Shun P. Writes
Shun P. Writes... dot com 