The birth of school massacres.

[e11even]

The playground sandbox is a warzone.
where pebble fights exposed, tore bone.
they scoffed and award moans.
the walk of shame was a war home.
followed. mocked as if born droned.
as if this was the purpose. their worth alone.
the rain with no chauffer.
the cane, but no shoulder.
the proper crutch absent. no friends to call over.
depends whats called older.
the years run like one does. together.
running, it would seem, forever.
more corners to turn. escape routes become tethered.
only to remind one of one thing. to run's better.
until one decides to fight. to run never.
fuck a lineman, wide receiver. the letterman and that fucking letter.
fuck that whorish ex, that prom in sweater.
that recital stink bomb they put on ta get ya.
its all against you. the parents fought chuckles.
you saw it. when that bitch made your heart buckle.
only thing sports got one is concussions and heart trouble.
"he's too frail to be my uncle!"
Fuck em. make this pipe bomb. buy this duffle.
She calls... "alright, mom!!" she never loved you.
fuck em. skim the pocketbook. take the cards.
sprees on bullets ta run at large.
run the gammut. GET THEM ALL.