Tuesday

We feel the hollow in your chest since this last Tuesday
We were the dad that got your text
We know you didn't choose this
We ache beside you and we feel the pain of slaughter
We see the problem clear as tears and cups of water

I keep my knife inside my blue jean's back left pocket
I like to be sure that when he gets close I'll stop him
I hear a sound outside and run along the floor
I throw my body in a shelf and lock the door

You hid it every day and made your secret plans
You came to school today with murder on your hands
You stopped to load and looked into the eyes of someone
You pulled a 15 out and gave no time to run

I keep my knife inside my blue jean's back left pocket
I like to be sure that when he gets close I'll stop him
I hear a sound outside and run along the floor
I throw my body in a shelf and lock the door

How can we swallow our surprise?
We've known it before
The numbers rising in my math wing corridor
And Mrs. Johnson's dead
I ask when will it be over?
When they are counting all my friends and calling their mothers

I go to class today with 20 empty desks
Knowing that in this room they counted all the deaths
I'l check the classroom clock and see there's no time left
And then I'll pray it doesn't happen
And then we'll wait until it happens again