The disgruntled opens fire on his colleagues.
Their bodies are hoses.
Already on the floor waiting for
the inevitable perforation.
Their blood touches
across the school floor.
The red fluid flows a furious flux.
Two pools join from leaky bodies.
They had come here to learn,
now after the gunman and his bullets entered.
Alot of young minds stopped forever.
They used to touch on
the wonderful world of ideas.
Now their pools of blood touch, spilling into
eachother.
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