Columbine,

That's nothing compared to mine.

Fright,

More black than the blackest of night.

Death,

I think I took too much meth.

Bombs,

The explosions turn me on.

Fire,

It takes me to a place much higher.

Burn,

Now it's your turn.

Pain,

It stimulates my brain.

Guns,

The bullets make me laugh like bad puns.

Blood,

I wash my hands in it like soap suds.

Now you've all died,

It almost brings a tear to my eye.

Then I realize I'm not sad,

All of you deaths have made me glad.

Then I pull the trigger once more,

I watch my brains hit the floor,

Now I realize my life is over,

For all that fun,

I should have been sober.