(no subject)
Floresent lighting
Concrete walls
Green lockers
Masses of bodies
It is the sight which meets me daily
As I fight through the swarm
Of blissful ingnorance
My books clutched to my chest
As one would clutch their life if it were threatend
I long to be one of them
Blissfully ignorant for the moment
Or longer
They move without care or purpose
Some not moving at all
Slow plodding to the rest of their useless existance
Not I, I say
I move with calculated steps
Fast in rate, slow in desire
I do not joke merrily
I walk like a prisnoer towards death
Inevitable, but not accepted
My knees go weak, almost home free
Almost
Until the shot fires out
And I am that much closer to death
Just move
Left foot first, then right
One, two, one, two
Clutching the books
My last support in my private war
I have lost
I don't fire back
I'm just trying to survive now
That's all I ever wanted
I take my steps without breaking pace
There is another bullet in my heart
Another wound to tend to
Just one word, and pain for life
Ignore the spelling errors and lack of any sort of grammatical wonder. This was just something I spit out while I was pretending to write an essay in my AP English class. In case you missed it, its about what it feels (sometimes) to be "out" in high school.