Quiet Box

Thu, 01/15/2015 - 11:25 -- Pity


Their made to torment us

To lock us away

To put us in these cages,

Where none should stay.

They keep us there

Locked up and alone

Till at least we sleep

So none shall be harmed

They rip us clean

Of our soul

Of our mind

Till nothing but blood is seen down our spine

We cry and we cry

Cold and alone

The hard concrete floor is where we were last known

Don't take pity on us for we are still living

With the deep cut scars

And the memories of our screaming. 

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