E.M.T.
First responder.
Long hectic days and cold lonely nights.
A thankless daunting task with no ending in site.
Essential worker.
First responder.
Adrenelane surges and heart aches.
Day in and day out drama.
Migraines.
Shattered nerves.
Trauma.
Some passengers make it and and some don't.
That's the life of an EMT.
The only "real" comfort for them is getting to go home to their nice "safe" house in their nice "safe" neighborhood and the end of their day.
That is,unless they don't happen to own a home yet and their neighborhood isn't safe.
Welcome to Breyona's life.
She lived smack dab in the center of hell.
She was surrounded by dealers, suppliers, gangstas, and users.
Nothing around her but broken souls, people that had their dreams dashed, derelects, and flowers that never made it to full bloom.
Her only ray of sunshine was her meaningful line of work and a vivid dream of what life would be like over greener pastures and brighter sunrises.
She didn't let her harsh environment consume her happiness.
She pressed forward with a smile on her face and hope in heart.
She was a visionary with a vision board.
She exicuted each move she made with intent.
She expected a change and began seeing all of her plans manifest slowly into friuition.
She had just manifested a car and was nearly on her way to owning her first home.
She was a few pay checks away from her new house,
and living her new life in her new neighborhood.
Then it all got snatched away from her on that horendeous night.
No knock.
No warning.
No ID.
No apology.
No empathy.
No remorse.
No accountability.
Just hot lead and aggression.
All in the line duty.
Officers,when you close your eyes at night I pray you see her face until your dying day.
Officers, you all "need" to feel ashamed.
Justice has no sight but vengeance has an angel be and Breyonna Taylor is her name.
hallziespoetrycorner: Poetry with a passion.Poetry for all occasions™
HLH©️ 9/03/20