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I wrote this poem after my friend survived a shooting at her high school. |
School Shooting poem I lie on my bed numb, unemotional, shocked, scared. Fear stains my mind as I reflect on a placid Tuesday morning in Claremont. A usual day in chorus. We prepare for concerts, indulging in normal routine. Carefree... content... unaware... A sudden blast startles us. A chemistry explosion? Defening eruptions penetrate. Sinuous voices now punctuated by gunshots, the demonic splintering the angelic. Tick, tick, tick-9:30- lives are forever changed. Shock... hysteria.... Why? The sound of bombs ignite horror through our veins and send chiils that pinch the skin like needles. Some run. Some stand paralyzed in shock, numbness engulfing all other emotions. Billows of powder now blanket the hall, creating ghostly images. I look through the delicate webs of cotton and see the fruits of hatred. Bullets shatter glass and invade bodies, as malice sears the the souls of the perpetarators. A student prays, another hides in stunned confusion, a teacher bleeds. LIke children, we are helpless- longing to be in mother's arms. Screaming... frantic... Why? Two faces are plastered against the window. The hooror in their eyes strips away my consciousness. My first instinstict is to run. I duck as bullets spray the halls. OUr school is now the grounds of warfare. Mortal fighting in a field of bombs and bullets. Weapons that have fallen into the wrong hands have only one purpose and they are killing us. All I hear is gunfire. Crackling, crackling. Hsmmering, bursting, screaming, ringing, what now? Too much Too young Too soon So scared Help us. I struggle to escape but am slowed as if trudging through water. Through the front doors, I see milky clouds that absorb the sun; I see golden light and sunburnt pavement. I cannot get there fast wnough. I am almost to the door. A bullet ricochets off the pane. The glass swirls like a droplet on water, creating rings that shiver and spread, shattering as I dash through the door. All is silent. I have ecaped hell. There is a dark room where ten broken bodies lie and where others play dead. Angels embrace the lifeless and their wings flicker light against a wall of helpless shadows. God now wraps His arms around the school and gathers the souls of the lost. Time picks up and I am vunerable, insecure. Who to trust? OUr haven is destroyed and we are scattered. I am angry... numb.... Why? Are there answers in silence? Because I am asking and you don't answer. Or maybe the silence is you listening... |