I heard many speak of freak

happenings,

diverse trappings that sneak into

overlapping paths,

and as if irony let out a huge laugh

I sat in the passenger seat of a parked

vehicle,

unaware of what evil had planned to do.

Looking back I wonder,

did you watch me as a Cheetah a Gazelle,

puffing on Newports only

to exhale

hell on the yellow-bricked trial.

and

There were 3,

as black as me,

as black as the night,

as black as me

there were 3.

Three brothers who must not have access to the web,

'cause they should've been humming one of my pieces

quietly in their heads....

and as they proceeded to pass the bottle,

flipping coins choosing who joins tomorrow

galloping as hollow lanterns on horseback

a brazen attack, on a turned man's back.

I could hear their hooves turning up dirt

and gravel laced with muffled syllables,

barely a second to wince, as the moments trickled

slowly to a winding end,

black masked men,

shadowy nightmares, but no dreams frolic in my mental,

"feel dat"

That's the heavy steel of a handgun pressed tightly against your temple,

and

"feel dat"

that's your heart chasing, racing, pacing the seconds of last logic,

and

"hear dat"

that's the gunman's threats as he rummages through your pockets

and

"see dat"

that's your friend with a gun pressed to him, ignition far out of reach,

and

"smell dat"

that is what your last moments smelled like, death oozing underneath

and all I could think was if you could feel a nine at point-blank

and all I could think was if my mama would survive my wake,

and all I could think was...

They were 3,

as black as me,

as black as the night,

as black as me

There were 3.

And I thought about my son not knowing who his daddy was,

I pictured his mother showing him photographs

telling him we had the same laugh

and everything heroic you might read about escapes your senses

and everything you dream of saying pounds your brain, relentless

as the gun next to your ear

and at the end all I could hear

was my own voice asking that boy, that child whose

eyes I saw beneath the mask

it pains me to my bone to recount these blues,

but for my life I did ask...

"Please don't kill me!"

"Please don't kill me!"

"Please don't kill me!"

"Please don't kill me!"

and then the horsemen were gone

as quickly as they had come

flapping into the night as bats and jackals

while my mind traveled ransacked

perplexed, stressed yet alive

I count to five; caress

my head,

my ear

my neck

and I'm driving away now

far off into the night,

ignoring traffic lights

numb to the outcome of late

as I succumb to a tiresome hate

betrayed by my own for such a nominal amount

I calculate the horseman's bounty, a futile count

$72 or somewhere thereabouts

between us two,

an unequal trade for such a rue

and I recall a theory...

GOD never gives us more than we can take,

he must've sparred my mama's that grief at my wake,

he must've decided my son would know my face,

and live to share his own photographs

he'd tell my grandson, "We all have the same laugh"

I assure you this world is full of sin and demons,

but, it's also full of family and friends, beautiful seasons

surely, occasionally spikes lay in our paths

we can cry for a moment, but then move pass

I say, whatever you dream to do deep within

today should be that day, and beware "The 3 Horsemen"

they ride!!

Who were they the officer asked me

Sir...

There were 3,

as black as me,

as black as the night,

as black as me

There were 3.