Don't Act Innocent

I walk in the doors of his perpetual hell-hole.
Just another day. Or so it seems.
Halfway through first period, the teacher drones on and on.
Pretending everything's okay.
The kids think they're so clever
and make snide remarks whenever opportunity arises.
Freak. Faggot. Psycho.
Pull out my AR-15 and blow the roof off the place.
Bye bye teacher. Have a nice day, preppy bitch.
Stop crying, asshole. It won't save you now.
You're all dead or in the process of dying. Time for the next room.
"Johnny, stop! Please!" I hear them beg.
Twenty-three, twenty-four. The number goes up.
Sweet silence fills the halls as I put my gun under my chin,
pull the trigger
and finally feel at peace.
Don't be mad at me.
You all created this monster.


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