City 18
Tongue torn complete from his head,
he lays on the floor of a small orange room.
Listening to the bitter silence of his surroundings,
the slightest whisper makes the tears from his eyes turn to glass,
curled in the corner with fear the proud memories of what he once had,
will never be again.
He eats old dried corn and a small sliver of bread each evening,
The dried skin on his lips, make it near impossible to drink a taste of water.
At night he dreams of freedom,
and breaking the steal chains from his feet,
Nightmares cloud his head awaking him in his own vomit in the early morning.
No one cares to visit him,
but everyday he holds his only possession in the palm of his hand,
a safety pin to scar his body when he feels lonely.
Tomorrow they soak him in gas,
and slowly burn him alive,
It happens to all of us here at city 18,
there’s nothing we can do, we were put here this way,
to tell our life story, for the very next day.
Eventually we leave this place and fade away,
....to the other side of the unknown.
he lays on the floor of a small orange room.
Listening to the bitter silence of his surroundings,
the slightest whisper makes the tears from his eyes turn to glass,
curled in the corner with fear the proud memories of what he once had,
will never be again.
He eats old dried corn and a small sliver of bread each evening,
The dried skin on his lips, make it near impossible to drink a taste of water.
At night he dreams of freedom,
and breaking the steal chains from his feet,
Nightmares cloud his head awaking him in his own vomit in the early morning.
No one cares to visit him,
but everyday he holds his only possession in the palm of his hand,
a safety pin to scar his body when he feels lonely.
Tomorrow they soak him in gas,
and slowly burn him alive,
It happens to all of us here at city 18,
there’s nothing we can do, we were put here this way,
to tell our life story, for the very next day.
Eventually we leave this place and fade away,
....to the other side of the unknown.