Cold, sinking knife in my side…
I dream of an escape
Some way to soothe my pride
And the chill that begins
At the back of my neck
And proceeds down to my feet,
Tells me I am alone,
So, here in the dark,
I weep.
No comfort, no joy.
Nothing but terror and guilt.
I am just a little boy,
Forced to survive
Until the time comes
When I grow up
Or someone saves me
From this putrid cup
In which they pee.
And I must drink
Till it all is gone.
Violence is what I think
Can break this cage.
I will be done
With all the anger,
With all the shouts,
With all the hatred
Inside this house.