Another school shooting, this time a girl is the shooter. Why do these things happen?
Echoes in the Halls
The bell rings out,
a hollow chime,
In corridors where laughter died.
Whispers linger, soft and strained,
Where walls remember blood and pain.
Small feet once ran where silence fell,
The echoes speak what hearts won’t tell.
Lockers close like broken sighs,
As shadows cloud unblinking eyes.
The classroom doors—once gateways wide—
Now shelter fear that hides inside.
Desks once carved with love and dreams
Are stained with tears in endless streams.
How did we come to this cruel fate?
Where innocence bows beneath the weight
Of bullets, rage, and shattered trust—
A place of learning turned to dust.
The hands that once would help a friend
Now grip for life, a means to end.
The lessons taught are all but lost
When childhood bears this tragic cost.
A question lingers, sharp and clear:
How can we heal what’s broken here?
Will walls resound with joy again,
Or only cries of “Not again…”
For every name now carved in stone,
A family grieves, a school alone.
Until we rise, until we stand,
These halls will bleed by unseen hands.
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