Three-two-one, Boom!
Said the guns,
Of Eric and Dylan.
Eric portrayed as mastermind,
Dylan as the follower, the disciple;
Violence: the school of after-hours.
Just say no to sawed-offs,
They proclaimed, laughing;
But by the end they were saying, well yes.
Eric's nose broken by the kickback,
As he played a game of hide and seek
Under a library table.
But the fun wore off, alas;
The fantasy lived out was not as fulfilling
As all the dreams they'd shared.
So they went on to hell together
To see what trouble they could raise there-
And left us all holding the bag.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem