187.
I cried when Ricky died,
Even though it was just a film—
I rewound the scene; I saw him fall,
As the shell burst through his torso.
It was realistic; his mother, the actress,
Her reaction was so good, Doughboy too.
It reminded me of tabloid headlines,
And to an extent, my own blackness;
It was sad; it was just a film though.
Maybe when the other guy asked:
Fuck you lookin’ at, nigga?
He should have just left.