A balloon popped in the hall the other day.
Everyone kind of flinched,
And waited,
Wondering for a millisecond if death was coming.
Then realized it was only a balloon,
And kept walking.
There's a kid who likes trench coats,
But he can't wear them to school anymore.
Because of everything,
Others are uncomfortable,
So the administration asked him
To not wear his coats.
There are kids,
Who seem to find this funny.
They laugh,
Saying our classmates are going to kill us all.
They say they'll do it themselves,
And keep laughing.
The school is glass;
Most of the walls covered in windows.
And I don't like looking anymore,
Because I'm afraid.
Afraid I'll see a gun,
Pointed straight at me.
We're all scared.
Some don't show it,
Or say it.
And some pretend they're not,
But everyone is a little worried we won't be going home,
Or we will, but with less friends than this morning.
How did we get here?
After Sandy,
Why didn't we stop it?
Why are guns more important,
Than the lives we won't get to live?
How does metal and powder mean more than our safety?
I shouldn't be afraid . . .
Of my school . . .
Of my classmates . . .
Of my teachers . . .
Of public spaces . . .
All I want is to learn,
But not how to hide from bullets.
YOU ARE READING
Random Poetical Moments (Most Definitely Not Updated Regularly)
PoetryWe all have those moments where we write a poem or think of something kind of poetical. Well this is, I guess, my poem log. Everything in here is/was my own works (I will include stuff from when I was younger). These are all my own poems and though...
