The Lead Stings

I've written this in class based on one thing, bullies, and what they can do. It even proves the nicest person, can be death at heart.
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Metal.
Copper, Steel, Iron.
Aluminum, Tin, Bronze.
Lead.

I walk through the school's halls,
Running past the concrete walls.
I turn into the restroom,
With hate, blood, and lust written on the stalls.

I can't bear it anymore.
While my footsteps on the floor,
Are creaking and cracking,
I hear someone push open the door.

Sprinting into the hallway he goes.
Running as fast as olympic pros.
I wonder why he's running,
But then my body chills to ultimate lows.

Standing in the doorway is my friend.
Now I wish i'd run round the bend.
Like a tiger, he's ready to strike.
For my life, I will fend.

He was the nicest kid throughout the land.
Through the door I can hear the band.
Wonder, how I wonder what drug took him,
He is standing there, with a gun in his hand.

I finally hear two muted screams.
As the lead shells fly in the straightest streams.
I know what will come next.
He has crushed my dreams.

As I lie, dying on the floor,
I remember, the times we were on tour.
I can't believe it,
All this blood and gore.

Through all of this, my mind brings,
It seems it is growing wings.
My final words in this life, to you, are this:
The Lead Stings.