You see the discrimination.You see all the hurting eyes and the crying faces.You just stand there as they suffer. And I, a third party, am just as guilty. Insults sting like gunshots to the legs,and she takes the blows. Words hold no power.The gun lies deep withinthe depths of your soulin which she is too afraid to look. Two shots fired brings upon us pain.But the real pain comes not from the gun,but the impulse to shoot. and as she lays there trying to dieto end all sufferingMy heart aches and yearns for an stop. the trickling blood flows like the smallest of creeks.Too weak am I to reach the gunand swing open the gates of deathI must wait. The bullets sing sharp as words.Words hold no power.Power is in will. See what they do to us?See how they treat everyone?How can you just sit there and point to the screen? How can you write on the board and read aloud,when there are students being shot with their will to hurt. We're ostracized for being differentBut they secretly wish they could be us.They wish they could be their true selves. But they have too much to lose.And we have nothing to lose.