The Worst Nightmare

by Conner   Oct 9, 2004

This poem is kind of long but please read it. I feel it is one of my best so far. I also want to assure you that this poem has nothing to do with me. I have no intentions of doing this. I just like to put myself in different situations in my poetry.

He felt so alone,
when he lived in that nightmare.
Everyone "knew" how it felt,
but really had no idea what it was like there.

He got left out,
and everyone teased him.
He had no friends,
and wished so bad that he did.

Not one person to talk with,
and stand by his side.
All he wanted was someone who cared,
someone to stay along for the ride.

But no one showed up,
and he realized it was too late.
He was going to be left out forever,
so he decided his fate.

He went to school wearing his jacket.
Today was the day he died.
He carried two shotguns underneath,
one on each side.

He killed everyone,
who had ever gotten in his way.
The same people who made fun of him,
each and every day.

When he was done he was covered with crimson,
from head to toe.
Now it was finally time,
for himself to go.

He had one shell left,
and he put the gun to his head.
He was about to end his life,
and swallow that lead.

As he pulled the trigger,
a girl came from around the hall's corner.
She was screaming something,
but he ignored her.

He took his life,
and ended his horrible nightmare.
But one thing that still bothered him,
was the significance of that girl of which he was unaware.

He could see her huddling over his body.
He could see himself on the ground.
That girl was still there.
She was holding his hand and she stuck around.

She looked up and yelled "Why didn't you listen?"
"What did you do?"
"I should have told you sooner...
that I loved you."



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Latest Comments

  • 6 years ago

    by Lucy

    Great! Very touching.

  • 11 years ago

    by NikX

    Great.. :)

  • 11 years ago

    by xxSilent Tearsxx

    This was good

  • 13 years ago

    by Sherry Lynn

    Very touching. I just finished a short story on telling someone you love them; oddly enough the words I Love You are often spoken when it is to late.

    Anyways, I liked this piece even though it is sad. I can honestly picture the bloody halls and the girl frantically crying out. Good work letting the images flow continuesly. (Please forgive the spelling).

    Keep it up, and I hope that you reach your goal.


  • 13 years ago

    by Georgi