Coeds Under Attack Poem by Ima Ryma

Geology class does not rock.
But thankfully, it's almost done.
Who is this dude with the weird walk?
Oh my God! He's got a shot gun!
Is this some kind of sicko joke?
The blast echoes the answer. No!
I look down and see my blood soak
Red in my shirt. I gotta go.
Falling over, out of my chair,
I crawl like crazy on the floor.
Shots and screams are everywhere.
If I can only reach that door.

I think I am about to die,
But am too shocked to wonder why.