Why?
Why did that have to happen?
Why did those people die?
They did nothing different than the rest.
No matter what, we both know,
No one can always be the best.
The first thing I asked was what if I was part of the scare?
What if I saw the guns, heard the shots, felt the fear?
Would I have been one to come out of there?
Most say I shouldn't worry, it was so far away.
That doesn't matter.
My fear, my anguish is there to stay.
My sympathy for those who have lost someone is so great,
Whether it be a child, a friend, or possibly themselves.
Their adolescence is gone, as is their innocence.
They are part of the past and stocked on the shelves.
The hot tears slide down my cheeks,
If my fear is this high,
Theirs must have reached such lofty peaks.
One victim was only but a year older than I.
A math and science wiz,
His intelligence could have given him the chance to touch the sky.
What will come of all this?
And how could the two slayers, those two teens,
Watch their peers plead and get such bliss?
The fear every teen has deep in their hearts,
I know, believe so strongly,
That it will never part.
We aren't supposed feel, and certainly not witness,
Anything like this tragedy, this mess,
Has left us.
We're supposed to be happy,
We're supposed to be carefree.
Why must this happen to innocent teenagers like me?
This is all I can feel,
This is all I can ask,
Will this nation ever heal?
-This poem is dedicated to all those who were killed, injured, or hurt-physically and emotionally-at the Columbine massacre in Colorado and any of the copycat incidents that have been happening. I wish to send my condolences to each of you.-
