Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jun 2018 Fireflies
Beaux
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never go home again.
My room will sit unused,
A capsule frozen in time,
A snapshot of how I was.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my dog again.
She will sit at the front door
Waiting for me and wondering,
Why I never came home.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never graduate from high school.
My yearbooks will sit stacked
Stopped short of their goal,
Missing years that should have been.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my mom again.
She will sit distraught,
Planning a funeral
For a child taken from her.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my friends again.
They'll sit together, missing me.
One empty seat among them,
A constant reminder of their loss.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my little sister again.
She will sit through high school
Knowing I can't guide her through,
That she has to figure it out alone.

If I die in a school shooting
My school will be stained.
Pools of students lives will sit,
Blood tattoos on the brick structures,
Marks of death ground into it.

If I die in a school shooting
Everyone will wear black.
They'll send their thoughts and prayers
To a town marred by death,
Forever to be the home of a shooting.

If I die in a school shooting
Will the world change?
Or will I become one of hundreds  
Of kids who have to die?
What will it take?

If things continue this way
Children will have to live in fear.
They'll look over their shoulders
Always worried and wondering,
If they'll die in a school shooting.
The state of Florida is now home to the two most deadly mass shootings in American history. Pulse Nightclub was attacked in my city, I have friends who attend Marjory Stoneman Douglas in Parkland. My little sister often fears going to school. I'm afraid to graduate and leave her. I want to be able to protect her if something happens. I hate that we have a reason to be afraid... That it's reasonable to have these fears. I hate it so f*cking much.
 May 2018 Fireflies
Eleanor
Isn’t it funny
How poets dramatise everything
“An ocean of depression”
“A death grip of love”
We just can’t help ourselves
It’s who we are
It’s part of being a poet
Over analysing life
Deeply contemplating death
“What is the meaning of life?”
Everything is philosophical
There’s always a lesson to learn
An issue to address
A heartache to confess
I couldn’t even resist a little alliteration in the title.
 Dec 2017 Fireflies
larissa
Mascara
 Dec 2017 Fireflies
larissa
maybe if you loved me
i could finally rest my head
on a white pillow
"i adore you"
"oh"
 Sep 2017 Fireflies
Sasevardhni
Water, water, water.
What is all about water?
A day without you
Is really a painful matter.
You are found everywhere
Pure, impure, dust dare
Many never hesitate to share
But be aware
One day you may really be rare.
 Sep 2017 Fireflies
YoYoWrites
This isn't a letter about how I died committing suicide by a gunshot against my head. Or how depressed I am in need of professional help. It's about how I already died without my body being six feet underground. You see, my body was different than anyone else's. I couldn't love because once upon a time I loved too hard and ended up alone. I trusted someone too much and ended up being touched. I took words to the heart and ended up killing myself without actually dying.
Next page