Flawed Violence

He just got new pencils

yet now they’re all bloody.
And she just got new jeans,

but now they’re all muddy.

Running in the halls

is usually against the rules,

but you can’t really do much,

when lives are at risk in schools.

So they run,

and so they cry,

texting their mama’s a final goodbye.

He’s in the library,

loading another round,

smiling sickly as he fires into the crowd.

Heart-wrecnhing sobs,

the sounds of bodies falling.

accompanied with slow methodical knocking.

Sirens sound,

as soon as the little ones are found,

and then he smiles.

firing off his last round.



Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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