(Note: Cassie Bernall was one of the victims of the Columbine School Shooting. As a believer in God, she stood up for Christ and died for him. This is her last letter found by her brother 2 days after the shooting.)
Now I have given up on everything else
I have found it to be the only way
To really know Christ and to experience
The mighty power that brought
Him back to life again, and to find
Out what it means to suffer and to
Die with him. So, whatever it takes
I will be one who lives in the fresh
Newness of life of those who are
Alive from the dead.
Making a Stronger Believer
By Nicholas Kaumeyer
Dedication to Cassie Bernall from Columbine High School
Fear, it's here! But yet she said "yes"
Why won't others just let her rest
So what if she believes, guess what
So do I, I have a question, what about you?
Seems so long ago this terror took place, But now
New fear rules, spreading that chaos
Now we face the same at our schools
This chain reaction shot through the world
Where did we all go wrong? Why?
This world, I can blame it and it's ways, but
I caused the pain and terror, fear and loneliness
Just easier to let someone else carry the burden
Reminds me of a story, once told to me
Jesus from heaven He came, died for you me
He already took that burden, don't put it on someone else
Will that be enough for you to stop yet? Hope so but if not.
One day we will face the same trial too
Before Him we stand, no room for flaws
The gun is loaded, where will you go
She said, "yes", I will to, but I�m worried about you.
The Fallen
By Christine Deaton
A Tribute to Columbine High School
They have fallen without permission, their final journey not
their say.
Their gruesome end without compassion, no one should die that
way.
Most go to school to learn and listen, but some just don't heed
the words.
They feel self pity and oppression, they live by rules of the
absurd.
A ticking bomb inside their minds, a fuse lit by nothing,
to self fulfill a fantasy easing rage and hollow trustings.
But innocents have fallen never knowing why, who can ease the
pain
of those left behind watching a senseless, violent game.
And before this madness ever ends, how many will there be,
who'll taste the target of other's self-righteous anarchy.
A troubled mind we cannot see, sometimes we can only guess,
but those who are close should undoubtedly see some signs of
their unrest.
A child is a child, they come with unsteady minds
and there are some that consistently walk a fine, unstable line.
They need the balance they've never had, but whose job is it
anyway?!
In a throwaway society, who has the final say?!
The truth is that the Fallen are not just those who've died,
but those who are the perpetrators and those who never tried.
The Fallen are a melting pot of hopelessness an despair
and there may not be an end in sight unless we all become aware.
Our children are our future, but will our future say,
if we allow this destruction to carry on this way.
Don't turn away from the desperation in the calling.
There are enough casualties, the casualties of the Fallen.
Hand to Hold
By Marijah Pike
Even though i wasnt there
The feelings of lonelyness and sorrow i share
Each day i think of all the tears shed
And i cry to for the innocent that now lay dead
The dreams wake me in the night
Feeling this pain is something i cant fight
i wan't there, you think i dont understand
But really i just want to be there for a helping hand
I Know i wasn't there I don't know how you feel
but i know the grief i feel is real
I'm sorry for those who lost loved ones
But i hate the ones who brought those guns
Slowly i gather myself to try and stand
'Cause i know i wasn't there,but im your helping hand
im you hand to hold
once the suns gone down and its gotten cold
My hand is here for you to embrace
when you don't recognise your own face
My hand will always be here
Even though i wasn't there.
The Library
By Katie
You try to forget, but you can't,
Its in the library.
Screams being echoed,
Its in the library.
You hear the gun and see the blood,
Its in the library.
Your friend is crying, dying,
Its in the library.
You try to forget, but you cant,
Its in the library.
Mommy
By Squeakers
Johnny brought a gun to school,
He told his friends that it was cool,
And when he pulled the trigger back,
It shot with a great crack.
Mommy, I was a good girl, I did
What I was told,
I went to school, I got straight As',
I even got the gold!
But Mommy, when I went to school that day,
I never said goodbye,
I'm sorry Mommy, I had to go,
But Mommy, please don't cry.
When Johnny shot the gun,
He hit me and another,
And all because Johnny,
Got the gun from his older brother.
Mommy, please tell Daddy;
That I love him very much,
And please tell Chris; my boyfriend;
That it wasn't just a crush.
And tell my little sister;
That she is the only now,
And tell my dear sweet Grandmother;
I'll be waiting for her now,
And tell my wonderful friends;
That they always were the best,
Mommy, I'm not the first,
I'm no better then the rest.
Mommy, tell my teachers;
I won't show up for class,
And never to forget this,
And please don't let this pass.
Mommy, why'd it have to be me?
No one deserves this,
Mommy, warn the others,
Mommy, I left without a kiss.
And Mommy, tell the doctors;
I know they really did try,
I think I even saw a doctor,
Trying not to cry.
Mommy, I'm slowly dying,
With a bullet in my chest,
But Mommy, please remember,
I'm in heaven with the rest.
Mommy, I ran as fast as I could,
When I heard that crack,
Mommy, listen to me if you would,
I'm not coming back.
I wanted to go to college,
I wanted to try things that were new,
I guess I'm not going with Daddy;
On that trip to the new zoo.
I wanted to get married,
I wanted to have a kid,
I wanted to be an actress,
Mommy, I wanted to live.
But Mommy, I'm must go now,
The time is getting late,
Mommy tell my boyfriend,
I'm sorry, but I had to cancel the date.
I love you Mommy, I always have,
I know; you know it's true,
And Mommy all I wanted to say is,
"Mommy, I love you"
Note: All poems are property of the poet named at the top of each piece. If any poem is reproduced, printed, or used in any other fashion, the poet's name must be included with the piece.
