everything he had

In the apartment where he lived there was laughter and kids playing on the streets below. There was always someone at his feet. The hoots, the hollers and smells of food cooking came from above. It was all about love.

His dream was to be a dad. He lived it with everything he had every day so his little girl could live like a princess, he said.

He had two jobs, one during the day, one at night. But he was always there watching her brush her teeth, holding her hand, sleeping by her side.

One shot fired.

He wasn't even who they were looking for.

Flashes of holding her hand, watching her sleep, keeping her safe.

He loved her and his family more than the moments he had left to keep.

Now the neighborhood, his family is left to weep.

In a land of the American dream, where life is bubbling up at the seams with family, children, play and love, the wind can now be heard blowing past the cracks in the pavement, the children's little feet gone.

Only a deep sorrow for tomorrow weighs heavily on their souls, as they hide in their beds, a fearing eye watching out the window.

He was only 25.

His whole life was ahead of him.

Now only wails of loss drift in and out.

Words unsaid.