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Not a day passes whereby the life of a black boy or black man gets cut short due to violence. In far too many instances, the careless nature of their very creation becomes the ultimate instrument of their demise. There is nothing more to discuss, nothing else left to say for you are either a contributor to the social malaise or you are the solution to cure it.
The four horseman of the apocalypse is riding across the land, with swords, flags and trumpets in hand. They are coming to take the lives of your sons while the reaper collects their souls and your indifference, apathy and insolence is paving the pathway straight to hell.
"Come and see!" I looked and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hell was following close behind him."
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It's good to talk.