Post-Mortem

I woke up.
I was late.
I ran for the bus.
I was shot by gang members.
I died.
People came.
They investigated.
They had no clues.
My parents cried.
My father drinks.
My mother grows angry.
They fight.
They blame each other.
They get a divorce.
The cops are haunted.
I was only 10.
But I'm already dead.
The world is so cruel.
I wasn't the only victim.
Not this week.
Not the only child either.
It never stops.
But me.
I live with God now.
The angels embrace me.
But I get to watch.
Heaven is very cold.