Ready cocked

He sits alone on his porch
with his hands crossed and pistol cocked

he's not waiting for anyone
just prepared to fight
to have the fear eased away through his gun

seen too many come and go on his block

he don't want to be another victim
another target

his motto is
I might as well take that life before it takes mine

but the streets are dead today
he still sits
dazed wondering why his gun is empty and there's blood spilt on his shirt

making shapes out of the clouds above

too much noise in his head to function
he can't hear the sirens

and now those crossed hands are as dirty as the hands that killed his mother

But his gun was already cocked for this...