Thirteen Tapes

A voice recorded, soft but clear, Echoes pain we failed to hear. Hannah spoke from shadows deep, Of secrets buried none should keep. A hallway's whisper, locker stares, Unseen wounds and empty chairs. A photo passed, a cruel slight, Each reason dimmed another light. Justin's love turned into blame, Jessica’s tears, the haunting shame. Bryce’s smirk, a predator’s grin, The silence loud—it let him win. Clay rewinds but can't undo, The paths they crossed, the truths they knew. Mr. Porter, blind and slow, Let chances slip and let her go. Zach took notes but not her cries, While Tyler's lens revealed the lies. Alex sank beneath the weight, Of guilt, too heavy and too late. Thirteen stories, thirteen names, A map of hurt, a trail of flames. In every voice, a fractured plea: “Would someone have stood up for me?”