Harris and Klebold

Mind of school shooter

My nails are like soil, dirty but natural.
Blood drips from underneath my two fingers,
His iron's bilateral.
A slow pulse bangs on the drum of death.
It's rythym sings out to me

This world is full of people; the victims and the victors.
But before I dissapear, I'll choose the latter.
All of my forgotten memories are now just old pictures.
I begin to see blood splatter.

These sheep walk around like they can't
Refuse the order to stay within.
They see me as Ulysses S. Grant,
And act like they've never committed a sin.

The gates break free but I don't think they wanna leave.
Over the years; more weight is added on
I see nothing but glutton.
My return I'll come for my mutton.

I'll survive just to make sure you don't.
Don't beg me for mercy ask your God to do that.
Put your book in your locker and keep dreaming of what you'll be.
Your purpose won't be nothing but giving pleasure to me.
Guns up and loaded I feel I know every plea.
I've rehearsed lines in my head over 1000 combinations.
I'll only laugh and say what you're thinking of saying next,
You are all Vernon.
Next period I'll be wearing black,
Just to celebrate Sheep Day.
You don't really call it that but let's get off track,
And call it school, perhaps maybe I won't come back.
Maybe I'll end this myself and victims could get a chance
To choose,
I'll just drift off and snooze.
With a thousand pills,

Its happening
Now
Can't happen again.

Death
you're an old,
Gold friend.
Be with them
in the end.