You stood at the front of the picket line.
Staring at the police with menace.
They look on with empty eyes.
I look on wondering why Ramone, just why?
The dangers of being on the front line.
The first bottle thrown.
Life is fragile and so is the glass.
Shards slice through skin.
I start running toward you.
Why Ramone, just why?
Caught you as you fell.
Blood flowing from the glass.
You stare at me in disbelieve.
I look on in horror at the blood.
Life teaches lessons for good and bad.
But why you Ramone? Why?
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