Waiting Poem by March Nicks

Hunkered down
In a
Dark room
We wait

With classmates
We barely Know
We wait

The silence
Is deafening
Even our breath
Is too loud
While we wait

There are sounds
Out in the hall
Its hard to tell
What they are
So we wait

Seconds turn
into minutes
Minutes feel
Like hours
And still
We wait

It becomes hard
To stay still
Then comes
The all clear

These drills are
Becoming more real

Tears stream
Down the faces
Of our classmates
Not knowing
Is this is real
If we will be
The Next target

Will our room
be the next one
with doors
held shut by chairs

With backpacks
covering the heads
of precious students
who huddle under desks

We pray
for a day
when life
will mean more
than the right
To bear arms
Until then we wait