Bored out of my mind,
Keep checking the time,
Four minutes till' leave,
I always perceive,
Time slow near the end,
So I have to spend,
My time writing poems,
Until I walk home.
All of a sudden,
I could see the gun,
Pointed right towards me,
Then the clock struck three,
As the bell did yell,
I ran, tripped, and fell,
Bullets screamed, desks flipped,
Light beamed eyes, I slipped.
The man walked around me,
Floor littered with bodies,
I was knocked out, then woke,
No lying bodies spoke,
I tried hard to play dead,
But then he had said,
"No sleep, this isn't bed",
As the bullet of lead,
Plummeted into my head,
Unconsciousness indefinitely spread.
Yet now I was awake,
At my desk in a lake,
Of sweat and shaking fear,
To me, it would appear,
This was all a day dream,
Boy, that dream was extreme,
Very realistic,
And not idealistic,
In the least, then I saw,
My fat teacher withdraw,
A pistol from the wall,
What happened, did I fall,
Back into the nightmare?,
After thinking this thought,
I was shot and killed right then and there,
Right on the spot...
Raise the consciousness. Also, my 100th poem!!!
