I was in the library, daddy.

Alone with my book in the middle of the teenagers crowd.

I was reading words about justice, daddy, and I felt very concerned.

I’ve heard the teacher cry.

Just heard her cry breaking the silence.

Then I’ve heard the storm, daddy.

A fire rain fell on me.

A guy just collapsed as he was falling asleep on one’s feet.

There was a red wave which suddenly hid me the sun.

There was a nice day of april, daddy.

Two stray bullets hit me.

I was crashing down.

My book was tore out of my hands by the shock.

Words about justice became bloody.

I was laying near of the guy who was shot on the head.

I heard boys and girls running.

I heard teachers screaming.

And everything I heard was panic and fear.

I didn’t beleive in fate, mom, I just cared about my lot.

On this nice day of april, my lot was to die.

Pals took their weapons and killed others.

I was only sixteen.

I just felt concerned about justice.

My heart was broken by two stray bullets.

My life was just bursting like a cristal glass.

I have been killing by teenagers.

I didn’t ask for it.

The guy was dead.

The teacher was still screaming.

Some of pupils tried to call 911.

I was more and more bleeding.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to run away of this (pourri) school.

I never wanted to kill somebody or even to kill myself.

Why didn’t you leave me alive ?

It really (craint) to be a american teenager nowadays.

I am dead.

I now don’t care about justice.

I just want to ask you something :

When will you stop the slaughter ?