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


This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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