The
children were asked to hide
In the classroom storage closets.
In the wide open air,
Bullets could fly
Under each desk,
Under each chair,
To hit a student hiding there.
Bullets could fly
Through large plastic boxes
For holding the toys,
Now turned on their side,
To hide little boys.
Bullets
could fly
Through yellow fans
And music stands,
Through picture books
And coats on hooks.
Better instead to hide in the closets,
The two large closets,
That made the world dark, and warm,
And fun:
The game of fear had just begun.
Drywall could not simply stifle
The startling sound of angry rifles.
Drywall could not simply stop
The bullet of a madman’s glock.
Drywall could not soak up tears
Of children in the grip of fears.
When lunatics are hunting sinners,
Children’s lives can hold no meaning.
The game of fear has no real winners;
The teacher draws fire with her screaming.
