Sandy Hook Elementary Massacre

• Grace Sierp, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2013

(Point of view of the gun used:)
As I was carried in, I could feel his rough finger on my trigger.
The new bullets filled my chamber, ready to be fired, even if I wished not to.
I could hear the screams, but I have no eyes to see, and I felt my whole self-shake with every shot.
He moved on, and entered a room decorated with children’s paintings and work.
Blood-curdling cries filled the room, and empty eyes stared around, no longer looking.
We carried on entering classroom after classroom, until I was empty.
Guilt covered my soul, but as I hit the ground, I was forgotten.