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Image by guano via Flickr

You wasn’t there the night you were conceived,

to much wine and a passion for your father was.

Three months later I found out you were coming,

in six months I would be a very proud mother.

****

You were born in a very bad January blizzard,

but my heart only saw my beautiful newborn son.

James Marcus Newberry is to be your full name,

but me and you father just call you little Marcus.

****

We watched you grow from a baby to a toddler,

exploring the huge world as only a boy will do.

Playing in a baseball league at nine years old,

practicing for a football game in the back yard.

****

Sixteen found you in a new town and high school,

with all the pretty girls ringing your cell off the hook.

Seventeen found you a captain of the football team,

the pretty head cheerleader is now your girlfriend.

***

Me and your father watched you graduate high school,

very handsome in your blue and white cap and gown.

You were going to attend college to become a doctor,

marry the cheerleader and settle down to have children.

****

But a stray bullet ended all of your dreams that you had,

you were caught in between a gunfight with rival gangs.

You were just minding your business walking to a store,

you didn’t know that you were walking into a gang war.

****

Now all me and your father has is memories to cherish,

for we lost the only son that we loved more then life.

It took eighteen years to help make you who you were,

it only took one stray bullet one warm day to wipe it out.