Yesterday a child spoke about hiding under a desk
the sound of gun shots filling the air
a repetitive pattern rapid fire
he’s down the hall
long drawn out sounds
he is on the other side of the door
she said don’t cry
the shooter might hear you
shallow breathes
be quiet
or he will find you
he will shoot your friends
he will shoot your teacher
he will shoot you
be still shallow breaths be quiet
and if you have to
cover yourself in the blood
of your classmate
the shooter will think
you are already dead.

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