School. A place of learning.

A place of yearning. Yearning for

a facade they don't see through?

A facade they do.

The torture nears

evermore as you walk through the door.

Firing squad ready.

Guns aimed. Guns steady.

The first shot

fired. Slow and burning,

yet quicker than you desired.

Head down,

eyes on your book.

You might get through

if you just don't look.

It's there in your ear.

The laughter you fear.

Don't choke.

You're used to this. You're always

the joke.

Stay strong. Stay fierce.

They don't deserve 

your tears.

But they bleed 

through anyway

because your deserve 

what they say.