Out With A Smile

All about teen angst. I'm pointing out the problems with guns and violnce in schools. By no means do I intend for this to glorify death. It's truly a sad time when you can't trust the school systems.

 

I'm going to tell you the story of a boy named Dave,

And that he wasn't much of a fighter.

But he always seemed to get in fights at his school.

Because he fancied himself a writer.

 

The football boys and the wrestling junkies,

Always got a kick in his expense.

They pushed him so hard every day of the year,

Soon they met their last offense.

 

He had done nothing more than keep to himself,

Writing every day all alone.

They found it amusing to push Dave around,

And pick at him like dogs to a bone.

 

Tired of everything and fed up with his life,

He quickly became quite hostile.

They'd push him once, and he'd push them back.

The straw they had pulled was their final.

 

Dave went home and he stole his dad's keys,

He got in his private closet.

When he came out he had a gun in his hand,

He loaded, and then he cocked it.

 

He got off the bus and he walked into class,

This was the bullies' last day of school.

He'd set his mind to it and knew what would happen,

They'd feel sorry for being such fools.

 

He saw one come in, and then came another,

The line had been crossed too far.

He jerked up his bag and was ready to fight,

Then something hit him, and something was sharp.

 

The gun had been loaded, the bullet was chambered,

And Dave forgot just one thing.

The gun had a safety, the safety was off.

And now he lay there mumbling.

 

"Please tell my father, please tell my mother,

I'm sorry for what I have done.

But those boys deserved it and get it they will,

I hope they are smart and they run."

 

Then Dave pulled and chambered, he fired one time,

The boy went down on the spot.

He chambered once more, aimed and smiled,

Then fired the last fatal shot.

Author's Note

Help me improve.

Reviews

[Kiya]

Your rhythm needs improving, because it hinders the reader's journey through the poem. Have you read 19 minutes by Jodie Picoult? It's about this kind of thing. I like your idea, and the way you said it. :)