there's a fire in the school

a stampede filtering over
the hill
and they think they're not crushing me,
but look at my sunken chest
and my splintered limbs —
what will I do about that?

the flames licking at
the school
and they're not really there,
but look at my terrified eyes
and the smoke choking my breaths —
what can I do about that?

the hailstorm pounding against
the skylight
and it doesn't break through,
but look at the wrath of god striking at me
and the shards of glass parting my wet hair —

what am I supposed to do about that?