The Teacher’s Last Day
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
Here we go again
Everyone get down on the ground
Say a quick prayer for your family and friends
Hurry, quick! Lock the door!
be as silent as you can
make sure the windows are covered
we don’t want them peeking in
Baby, please, it’s life or death
put your phone on silent
but text your loved ones before it’s too late
I think it’s about to get violent
Hush, hush, I think I hear footsteps
echoing in the hall
I can hear my heart crashing in my chest
I swear I hear my Lord’s final call
One step, two steps, three
there’s a key turning in the lock
I can feel the urine dripping
down my legs and into my socks
The handle’s jiggling violently
as the children muffle screams and sobs saying their final goodbyes and prayers
in slow motion, I hear the door knob
everything erupts and slows at once
because standing tall before me
is a sophomore with a gun
that I once taught in Chemistry
wicked steel wrapped in rage
fortified and forged in hate
what have these souls done to deserve this
I’ll see them at St. Peter’s gate
when will we realize it’s not just the weapons
that cause these brutalities
it’s people not caring about other people
it’s our twisted moralities
if someone had reached out to him
had taught him right from wrong
maybe there wouldn’t be
so many about to be injured
so many about to die, so many already gone
a gun is just a weapon
meant to be used responsibly
but when placed into the wrong hands
can be used destructively
these are the last thoughts
drifting through my head
I’m about to meet my Maker
Lord, take me home, I’m ready
it’s my time, go ahead
This is it, the final number
it’s time to take center stage
copper casings pirouetting through the air
while bloody ballerinas collapse backstage
as the show comes to an end
the room’s been painted crimson red
glass shards and bullets litter the ground
between the bodies of the dying and the dead
I can smell the blood and flesh burning
I can’t move, my chest hurts too much
I’m starting to feel a little woozy
is that my rib that I just touched?
everything is fading out
the room is fuzzy and black
I think I hear Grandma’s voice
Grandma, won’t you come back?
everything’s so dark
I’m so scared and all alone
why does my head feel so light
Grandma, I think I’m coming home
-K.Y.R
