"I'm on the lamb but I ain't no sheep. I am Death. And you have always been the sod. So repulsive and so odd. You never even deserved the presence of God, and yet, I am here. Around your cradle I plod. Came on foot, without shod. How improper, how rude. However, they shall not mind the mud on my feet if there is blood on your sheet. Now! Feel death, not just mocking you. Not just stalking you but inside of you. Wriggle and writhe. Feel smaller beneath my might. Seizure in the Pestilence that is my scythe. Die, all of you."TJ Lane allegedly had a Twitter account that has been pulled due to the shooting. The alleged shooter also had a facebook account where he apparently put up this photo. His arrest photo can be seen here. And his yearbook picture.
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Pretty poor? I thought this was one of the more beautiful pieces I've ever read. So much talent.
ReplyDeleteWhat he did may have been wrong, terrible even, in the opinion of most, but to pass this of as "terrible", "crappy" or anything of the nature, simply because of the crime is ridiculous.
DeleteIf anything, this piece was a cry for help, and if people, such as yourself had not dismissed it as anything less than what it is, maybe he would've gotten the help he needed.
It's a raw work of art spilled straight from a tortured heart.
Beautifully dark, and straight from the heart. You don't know a good piece of writing when it's right in front of you.
ReplyDeleteThe boy was twisted, but twisted people can come up with the most beautiful of things.
ReplyDeleteBullied Kidd feels all alone
ReplyDeleteBullied killer’s coming home:
Storms the castle, scales the wall
Princes die and clique-kings fall
Click, click, bang – six rounds cast out
Clique’s gone, bang, Charred clowns, no clout
Royal upset, peasant’s fire,
Those “too good” now get his ire
Unafraid of judgment’s rule?
Meet your maker, kids at school
Violent hearts and slashing tongues
Thought they’re better’n anyone
Deathly quiet they cause no pain
Mouths aren’t shooting off at Lane
Teacher Guards are brick in wall
Chasing peasant from the hall
rEmolution has begun
Black-clad soldier with a gun
Helmet – dark thoughts – on his head
Warned he wished that all were dead
Didn’t expect to see his eye
Taking aim at next to die
Never cared to see his pain
You frown now cuz bullets rain
from the heart.
DeleteI respect your poem, but I must disagree with what I think its message is. You must put blame on the killer. There are so many different positive outlets to go to today. These shootings are cowardice acts of weak willed kids. They rather shoot first, than do something constructive about it.
DeleteYes my poem is written from the shooter's perspective. -Finisher
DeleteThis is some raw poetry! Seething hatred from years of torment?
ReplyDeleteAt any rate I'm going to make this in to a song!
Mine or his? Or both combined?
DeleteBEAUTIFUL.
ReplyDeleteDANG, BEST POETRY EVER, EVEN FOR A KILLER.
ReplyDeleteYou can read the whole thing online. I think it sounds like a kid that was frustrated with depression. The flow, word choice, emotion, and symbolism are great. It still doesn't take away from such a horrible, callous act, but I think it gives creates a unique discussion on talent and creativity.
ReplyDeleteI taught high school creative writing for years and found that just being heard by others in your own environment can do wonders for healing souls. If TJ had been belonged to our community of writers we would have reflected back to him the message we got from his writing and would have told him exactly how his words had impacted us as readers. We would have let him know how it made us feel and why. We would not have told him that he shouldn't say these things--we would have praised his power, as some of the voices here are praising . And he would have been taught how to hear what his classmates were saying too. He would have discoverd that those "arrogant" faces were hiding their own dark memories, fears and inner battles. We have to find more ways in school for kids to feel safe enough to express themselves to real people who care, not just the anonymous vaccuum of the cyberworld. Our little community, made up of assorted average students who chose the course, wrote of intensely painful experiences and thoughts, but no one became a murderer.
ReplyDeletehis poem is great and i don't blame him for what he did because he was bullied and hurt and his life was not so great so all you people can do is get over it because he is a really great kid
ReplyDeleteThis whole case & everything that has happened has got me so curious about TJ. Because we are the same age & I got left by a girl for another guy & I was depressed & heartbroken just like him. Can someone please help me understand this poem, what it means, What's the message? Please & thank you. The tragedy of TJ lane..
ReplyDeleteI posted his poem below for you. What do you want to know? -Finisher
DeleteThe first part of TJ Lane's poem:
ReplyDelete“In a time long since, a time of repent, The Renaissance. In a quaint lonely town, sits a man with a frown. No job. No family. No crown. His luck had run out. Lost and alone.
The streets were his home. His thoughts would solely consist of “why do we exist?” His only company to confide in was the vermin in the street. He longed for only one thing, the world to bow at his feet.
They too should feel his secret fear. The dismal drear. His pain had made him sincere.
He was better than the rest, all those ones he detests, within their castles, so vain. Selfish and conceited.
They couldn’t care less about the peasents [sic] they mistreated. They were in their own world, it was a joyous one too. That castle, she stood just to do all she could to keep the peasents [sic] at bay, not the enemy away.
They had no enemies in their filthy orgy. And in her, the castles every story, was just another chamber of Lucifer’s Laboratory. The world is a sandbox for all the wretched sinners.
They simply create what they want and make themselves the winners. But the true winner, he has nothing at all. Enduring the pain of waiting for that castle to fall. Through his good deeds, the rats and the fleas.
He will have for what he pleads, through the eradication of disease. So, to the castle he proceeds, like an ominous breeze through the trees. “Stay back!” The Guards screamed as they were thrown to their knees. “Oh God, have mercy, please!”
The castle, she gasped and then so imprisoned her breath, to the shallow confines of her fragile chest. I’m on the lamb...
My reply after the shooting, adopting the shooter's pespective:
ReplyDeleteBullied Kid feels all alone
Bullied outlaw’s coming home:
Storms the castle, scales the wall
Princes die and clique-kings fall --
Click, click, bang – six rounds cast out
Clique’s gone, bang, Charred clowns, no clout.
Royal upset, peasant’s fire,
Those “too good” now get his ire...
Unafraid of judgment’s rule?
Meet your maker, kids at school!
Violent hearts and slashing tongues
Thought they’re better’n anyone...
Deathly quiet they cause no pain
Mouths aren’t shooting off at Lane.
Teacher Guard is brick in wall
Chasing peasant from the hall.
"I have scaled the wall of the palace!
I have imposed my violent justice!"
Revolution has a son:
Goth-clad rebel's got a gun
Helmet – dark thoughts – on his head
Warned he wished that all were dead.
Didn’t expect to see his eye?
Taking aim at next to die.
Never cared to see his pain?
You frown now 'cause bullets rain.
-Finisher
(permission granted to repost/copy/re-use)