Alone.Outcast.Forgotten.Forbidden.Controlled.A follower.The clipped of wings.The loss of power.These are the ones,Hiding in the shadows,Plotting the demise of the rich,Deciding the deaths of preps.Are you in or are you out?Choose now before the door shuts,Opportunity only knocks once,Kill or be killed, choose now.Behind locked doors,And shut windows,Cold steel is passed,Hand to hand,Chilly with it’s icy grip,The feel of the ridged barrel.The adrenaline and fear pumping.Directions given,Weapons hidden,Gripping sweaty palms,Drenching foreheads,Emerging into sunlight.They walk so slowly,Oh so calmly,Creeping with hidden intentions.Holding their breath.Before them the judges stand,Mock one last time as they laugh.Warm metal raised,Rattling fire against the pain,Shattering of glass,They all fall down.Walls splatter in blood.Crimson liquid fills the grass.Screams and yells of pain.Death falls so quickly on the forsaken,Apon those who swore they’d live.Turning the small semis apon themselves,Blood shots toward the sky,One bullet for themselves, 19 for the others.Bodies crumple to the ground,Lying about the soaking land.Why could not anyone see,That outcasts can only take so much,Before the glass of life breaks.