Stained Red

The sound comes from down the hall

It draws nearer as you fill with dread

 

They reach the classroom

 

Shots fire through the room

Kids run behind desks

Others try to reach for the door out

but don’t make it

 

The floor is stained red

You lie next to a corpse

face down

Your classmate’s blood pressed against your cheek

hoping to survive disguised as dead body

 

They pass you as they walk by

 

You hear the fired shots fade away

And more screams of terror come from the distance

 

You never thought this would happen to you

yet you knew it was a possibility

 

News on the t.v. is full of stories to tell

School days that became massacres

Students that became murderers

And others that became ghosts

 

Kids rally and protest

wishing to prevent the horror they had seen

to happen again

But politicians like the green that goes into their pockets

when people buy their killing tools

 

And others in and out of school

like the idea of guns

though they don’t need them

So they call survivors names

for wishing to protect them

 

The massacres continue

Blood keeps running

Shots keep firing

And lives continue to be taken

 

After all

Guns are worth more than children

 

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world

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