Note: Poet Warriors write with truth and purpose; this poem contains strong language, graphic details or sensitive subject matter.

Sunrise, Heaven.

By: Hilary Velazquez

At night when you’re sleeping in a cozy bed, with blankets of silk.

You close your eyes and dream, dreams you’ve wish were true, in that deep dream you hear two loud gun shot.

“POP! POP!”

You wake up scared.

You stand up from your bed, your bare feet on the cold floor, you check your room.

But everyone is asleep.

All you can do is go back to bed and try to fall asleep.

You wake up in the morning to the sound of your alarm,

6:10 sharp.

To the smell of coffee, sweet, but an awakening smell.

You pour some into your favorite mug, the one you got for your 16th birthday, with your full name written on it.

You can feel the warmth around the mug. The taste of the dark roast is unexplainable, its so strong and sour but weirdly  just the way you like it.

It’s time to get ready for school, you pick the only clothes like, which are the only ones you have, because you can’t afford the good

“brands.”

You head to the bus stop, you see cops all over the block.

The shots you heard killed a person’s life.

A loving father.

Son.

Friend.

Lover,

But all you can do is walk away from the scene because these things happen very often. You go on your day like you normally would because that’s all you can do.

I mean all you can do is walk

away…