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Hayley Rena Apr 10
Mourning on school mornings
as you take your children to the bus stop
hope their hearts won’t stop
bullet shells drop

and moments of silence
will never balance their cries
or your rage
or put others at ease

it will never
combat the kids in the halls
saying “we don’t care”
with a rib cage full of hate

it will never
get those of ignorance to think

the people cant listen to moments of silence
so be louder than the gunshots
because I’m tired of listening to those.
Written// 2018
Alysha Feb 8
Some days, I just want to be blind. Blind to the world. To the crimes, to the kinds of people that exist.


If I was blind, I wouldn't have to spend all the time trying to decipher how someone could be so cruel. How they could think it would be so cool to shoot up a school.


February 14th is a holiday, is Valentine's Day. A day of love, not hate, and should not act as the day of a shooting. Is a day where seventeen lives were lost as a result of a guy who felt a little lost. A man who needed to move on.


Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. A safe place where people go to learn without concern of dying. On Valentine's day, seventeen lives are gone as everything that should have gone right had gone wrong. I mean, come on, why is it seen as an event that everyone saw, but cannot correct? Is there a vet for people who act like dogs?


Some days, I just want to be blind. Some days, I look out of my window and see trees blowing in the breeze, and it used to put me at ease,  but those old opportunities have been seized.


Fire. Burning. Horror. Forest fires in national parks. Places were bark used to decorate trees, little did everyone one know, this was a slowly killing disease.


We didn't have time to grovel, never mind write a novel. It's too bad you have to pick up the remains out of the rubble. In the background, I mumble, “wasn’t there supposed to be no casualties?” I mean can anyone sneeze without having to bend at the knees to the ultimate destroyer. Surprise. Surprise. Don't catch flies because you didn't open your eyes and realize that there is no easy end to all of these crimes.


Some days, I just want to be blind. Blind to everything. Blind to kids my own age. From the gentle voices to the ones filled with rage.


Walking toward a Target exit and seeing a wall of missing children, half of them probably screamin’ looking for their parents, scared and searching for some flair, of hope.


Most of them most likely thought that it could never happen to them, but here they are sitting in the middle of a stranger’s den. Scared and alone. Wondering when, or if there’s is a time that they will get to go home.


You know, the funny thing is that though it might be a stranger. You might not even think that they can pose a threat, let alone danger. Think about it, your kidnapper could be a lady, old and sweet, or so you think before she starts look a little less fragile and meek. And this makes you feel weak, well this will teach you not to go to the store to buy something as simple as meat.
Another old piece. Rhyming included
A little boy of ten watches Doctor Who religiously
because the Doctor has time travel
and oh what he would do
to turn back the clock
to when his sister was still alive

A little girl asks her mother
when Daddy is coming home
but Mommy doesn't know how to tell her
that the history teacher became a statistic
in a national tragedy that goes ignored

A teenager sobs in a corner
hands over her mouth
as she thinks, 'Dear god please, please no'
and the kid next to her texts their dad goodbye

A boy with dark eyes and darker clothes
wipes his eyes
because his phone just died
and the last thing he told his mom was 'I hate you'

The teachers lock their classrooms
and look around at their students
They wonder which ones they are going
to say goodbye to today

The children march
for the lives that have been lost
but the screams of the dead aren't loud enough
for those who can end their suffering

A kid makes a mockery
about shooting up the school
but even as they laugh
his friends wonder if he's really only joking

Everyone will say
that they are sorry for your loss
but they can't fix whats been done
and they won't stop it from happening again

We fake stomach aches
skip school
skip classes
beg our parents
because there was another one only yesterday
and 'What if we're next?'

"Mom, I love you."
"Daddy, I'm scared."
"Mr. Davis, is this a drill?"
"Will you hold my hand?"
"I don't want to die."

Kids tremble in fear
because this only happens at other schools
this only happens to other people
and they weren't supposed to join them
as another number on the death count
Micah Gerdes Nov 2018
Shooter
What makes you this way
Is it the game on your computer
Or is it in your DNA?

Is it alcohol?
Or drugs?
The urge to end it all?
Deathly Spirits, do they tug at you?

Or is it PTSD?
Images and feelings from long ago
That you can’t unsee?
What made us cross the line 19 years ago?————————————
Why?
I’ve always wondered why so many shootings are happening nowadays. What is it individually that causes these, and what are exactly are they thinking?
Elisabeth Sep 2018
These shots were never taken by chance

They were of anger taken under sunshine

This smoke can oh so muddle your view of the truth

They use smoke of their own to hide their intentions



But the truth can be seen rolling by, glinting red

The weapon of black turns their eyes white 

One shines with tears; the other dull and *****

The greedy man hides the youth of all seventeen



It could have been stopped

And the young could continue

This is preventable

But he continues to enable



His smiles are swamp green

His words are shiny gold

But he hides it all behind his suit of blue
I wrote this right after the shooting in Florida actually happened and poured all of my anger, sadness and fear into 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...
Noah May 2018
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.
Belle Gwilliam May 2018
**** the non-believers
**** the ***** and **** the fools
Go grab your Dad's gun and we'll go shoot up the
whole
school.
Yeah.
I got her nudes,
don't you think that's pretty cool?
You know that Jesus loves you,
would you like to see him soon?

You're so offended these days
well **** my **** you ******* *****.
******* licking my Dad's ****
Donny T's alright,
Don't you think?

Jesus loves you.

I don't,
But Jesus loves you.
I was thinking about the saying "People are so offended these days" and how it's generally something an ******* says after they're said something assholish. We aren't more offended these days, we are less tolerant of bigotry, and the ******* who haven't been affected by bigotry feel attacked for being bigots so they say **** like this to feel better about their *******.
People use to get offended by woman's ankles for christ sake! We've come so far, sweet Jesus.
Meg Apr 2018
I am alive by luck at this point.
I wonder if the gun that will eventually take me has been made.
Whose trigger will bury me.
How many bullets, like a flock of sparrows, will come carry my life to its final bed.
Today, I am alive but there is no law to thank.
If not me, then someone else.
Born into a game of chance we never asked for. Traded diplomas for obituaries. Traded graduation speeches for eulogies. Traded futures for an early grave. Forced to cash in their chips. We don’t want to play anymore.
And this too is eulogy. And this too is prayer. And this too can resurrect the coffin wood back to a tree. Can sing back alive whatever parts of you died with them. Whatever leapt in your throat at yet another headline.
Mourning until you, too, are a thing to mourn.
But we will no longer be martyrs.
We are the rude awakening to politicians who pawned out our safety, who bartered our lives for bribes.
You say “gun reform is not the answer” but all I can see is a bullet rattling like a pinball in an innocent student’s jaw.
You smell like gun smoke and
I can see the AR15 you're holding behind your back and
I guess it's easy to crack jokes about dodging bullets when you're the one firing them.
Give teachers books not bullets:
Kafka isn’t kevlar.
Bronte isn’t bulletproof.
And how sick is it that we must add school shootings to your list of proud american traditions.
Throwing opinions like punches.
How many more have to die before you decide your ego isn’t as important as you think it is?
And I, too, am buried alive
My soggy grave parting its greedy lips.
To you, my bones, when ground into gunpowder and mixed into water, taste like champagne.
My pulse, as thin as an obituary panting beneath sweaty palms, and sure
We are “just kids,”
But you are forgetting we are the next generation
And you autopsy your fists.
Call it reclamatory.
Lately, when asked “how are you?” I respond with a name no longer living.
And who knows if mine will be next
Performed this yesterday in my first poetry slam and won second place :)
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