What happened in the Bronx this past week is not okay.

Lesandro "Junior" Guzman-Feliz, a 15-year-old boy, was murdered due to gang violence.

If you haven't read the news, you should know that Junior was hoping to be in the police force one day. Junior was dragged out of a grocery store one night while bystanders did nothing. He was stabbed over and over with knives and machetes. He ran to the hospital when the gang members let him go, but fell, bleeding out of his neck. He died.

This is not okay.

I cried in my car and sat still for half an hour when I read about him and his death. I write poetry and so I wanted to write a small poem in light of what happened.

I am a suburban white girl from the whitest town in Bergen County. But if I could somehow make a difference by shedding some light on the topic and maybe having one reader who didn't hear the story, hear it...maybe so much awareness can finally bring about action, action can bring about change and with change, gang violence will have met its match.

Junior, I'm so sorry for what happened to you. I wish someone helped you that night. I wish you lived.

Don't Look Now

Don't look now.

Because if you look, you won't see it.

Not yet.

Not when the leaves are still shriveled

And the dirt isn't soft

Not when the coffins meet flowers

And the flowers did rot

Don't look now.

Because if you look, you won't feel it.

Not yet.

Not when the world is still fighting itself.

And the anger is there

Not when the love has surrendered

And we're not playing fair

Don't look now.

Because if you look, you won't hear it.

Not yet.

Not when your ears are covered by screams.

And the sounds are all drowned

Not when the children are balling their fists

And there are stains all over the ground

Don't look now.

Because if you look, you won't touch it.

Not yet.

Not when you are too scared to watch

And your eyes are blinded with fear.

Not when you're that immune to the pain

And you're standing there…

Not looking.