Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2014
The depth of pain he's feeling can't be described.
He walks the halls alone with no one by his side.
He's slammed into a locker or punched in the face.
There's nowhere to escape in this scholarly place.

He walks home burning.  
His world has stopped turning. His heart holds a yearning.  
His stomach is churning.

He goes into his dad's room to look under the bed.
The colors in his mind swirl a ****** red.
He grabs the gun and begins to plan their demise.
For once he'd like to see the fear of God in their eyes.

He slowly walks to school.
He won't be anyone's fool.
His bag holds revenge's tool.
They'll stop whipping the mule.

When he walks through the door everything goes black.
He blindly squeezes the trigger during his insane attack.
The screams and pain around him don't reach his ears.
When the bullets run out his eyes begin to stream tears.

He drops to the cold floor.
Did he cause this gore?
His soul spills from his core.
He's wide awake once more.

Later that day he sits alone in a cramped cell.
He already knows that he's been ****** to hell.
He wishes that he could change the fury he showed.
But he was a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

He prays for his soul.
This was never the goal.
He's dug his own hole.
He hears the bell toll.
Written by
Greg Obrecht
Please log in to view and add comments on poems