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The trees outside their classroom door so recently were green. Now they all are bare and brown; great evil they have seen. I cannot, will not, speculate what drove that youth insane: or why he murdered children then put a bullet in his brain. The Season now is dreary; Christmas greetings go unsaid; Presents never to be opened and even Hope seems dead. A grateful Father hugs his girl, Her classmates all are dead. Their classroom is an abattoir: Finger-painted Red.
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Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 10:20 PM UTC
Finger-painted Red
The trees outside their classroom door so recently were green. Now they all are bare and brown; great evil they have seen. I cannot, will not, speculate what drove that youth insane: or why he murdered children then put a bullet in his brain. The Season now is dreary; Christmas greetings go unsaid; Presents never to be opened and even Hope seems dead. A grateful Father hugs his girl, Her classmates all are dead. Their classroom is an abattoir: Finger-painted Red.
This is about the mass ****** of children in a Connecticut kindergarden.
john-f-mccullagh
Written by
63/M/American
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 10:20 PM UTC
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