Humans, since the dawn of time, have been physically weak
In intelligence we found the strength we seek
Technology progressed as we built our hot weapons
Born not evil nor good
Instead the one we judge
Not the gun, but
He who holds

I’m afraid
To go somewhere I have the right
I’m afraid
That someone will threaten my life
So many people have passed away
At the hand of another shooting
But at 16, should I be afraid
That the next one could be me?

He looked for the gun but couldn't find it
Frenzied angry,
Emotionally wrecked
Desperate to get his hands on a trigger,
Cold familiar handle and feel
He missed the days of passive purpose,
A father's love felt from wars gaze
His thoughts fixed
One shell to end the arguments forever
Inside his head,
Inside his bed,
Inside the lead
But he looked for the gun and couldn't find it.

In my homeroom class, we don't have a seating chart.
But I still sit as far away from the door as I can.
Subconsciously it's probably because of a school shooting.
I've been anticipating one to strike at my small high school for a couple years now.
It's probably because of a lock down we had a couple years ago when I was still in middle school.
There were armed men on campus.
We had to be silent for hours.
I was in choir at the time.
Over 100 of us were squeezed into a small space.
There were girls crying,
my best friend was holding my hand,
I was having an anxiety attack.
I was only thinking
"Please not today..."

I'm not surprised anymore.
When another school is in the news,
it's deeply upsetting
but not surprising.
It's all I've ever known.
The Columbine High School shooting happened in 2001.
I was born a year later.
I've never actually known peace in this country...