Closed eyes running for cover
a hail of bullets reigning down
crashing through fragile skulls
of people who would kill to be 'someone'.
What we were, we were proud of
until we had to open our eyes
to our reflections and our demise
to look into the eyes of our newfound enemy
and recall the boy who was afraid of
setting foot in school because he knew
he meant nothing.
With you staring up into the barrel,
you knew the fear he'd felt all his life
all because of you.
The cameras can't capture
the apologies that were never said
never even thought of until that moment.
Ask yourself who you really are in the face of death
and realize that
you are nothing
without your high horse.
Imagine the pain that led up to that
self(destructive)actualization
and know that you're just as guilty
as the man behind the mask.
Know
this is a monster that you have created
out of your very own self portrait.
When will you learn that the gun is in your hands?
All you have to do is invent someone
to pull the god**** trigger.
