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A Prison Filled With Smoke

 I drew with a pencil that broke in the middle I drew with the shorter half that choked on the riddle I knew it was going to be harder to hide my fiddle I drew on top of a scar that had been ripped open too far I drew the stitches to cover the leakage in rage I made the lead to break I drew dark glasses to hide my eyes from lies that cover my face I drew empty classes where I teach freedom I knew no one would come and take the risk that it encompasses I drew the bucket  that has holes everywhere I drew the station that never sees a train only the pain of everything passing right through the empty tracks I drew a relation that is always in tension what should I say how should I pay what should I do not to stay I drew a blanket to cover my soul I drew a bullet to destroy the ghoul I knew someone will call me out I knew someone will shout I drew a chair where I can sit and think about being fair I drew a floor filled with gravity of good time smoke gathered around me suddenly, I ...

Happening


It's hard as they
Don't know what's
Happening
It's hard that they
Have to know 
All of a sudden
That's happening
Because it is happening 
To them
Their soul
Their body and minds
Just reality
Isn't eating dry crumbs of 
Bread from the floor
But fighting for every
Single crumb attained

I want to go home
But where is home
As the person 
Who brought me up
Just gave up on me
And couldn't see
That I will not be free anymore

A touch isn't soothing
That touch just breaks 
Them further into pieces
Repeating it all
Over in their dreams
How will they forget
When there's little
That's left of them..
That still craves
Childhood

* Dedicated to stop human trafficking across the world, to make it a better place for our future prospects.



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