420 Guns.

A Poem by Stormy Weather

This poem is in reference to the Columbine shootings that occurred on April 20, 1999. Rest in Peace, God's 13 angels.

Eric, did you ever think you'd become a household name?

A years worth of cynical planning, all just sealed your fame.

A day marked with blood still remains on their calenders.

Did you look God in the eye when you met Him, or was your back still turned?

Did you smile as you watched them die, or did your soul burn?

No one saw through your pretty, clever facade.

You brought the guns. And history was made.

Dylan, could you see yourself dead on the library floor?

Did you ever think you'd be the cause of such a horror?

I wonder if you cried when God played back your life.

When you saw them; bleeding, dying, screaming- how did you feel?

Was it everything you'd ever hoped for, or was it surreal?

He lead to your ironic demise.

You shot. You killed. And then closed your eyes.

Killers, do your souls feel remorse?

If someone had noticed, would you two have taken a different course?

The brutal demise of 13. Forever belonging to you-your number.

I wonder if the gunshots ever burn in your eternal slumber.

~"The sight of my hand is just a quick-pull trigger, I reason with my cigarette- I say, your hair's on fire, you must have lost your wits.....All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, .better run, better run-outrun my gun."~ (excerpt from Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People)

© 2012 Stormy Weather

Author's Note

I had to do a presentation on the Columbine massacre for a law enforcement class. So, I felt like writing a poem about it in my free time. If anyone who reads this was connected to/affected by that dreadful day- I apologize, as this isn't meant to be offensive or hurtful in anyway.