The walls are small and the voices are loud,
the hearts are empty but the people are proud,
all in this tiny house.

I cant see clearly past the fog from the kitchen,
the *** screams but nobody listens.
I watch as the fire sizzles and burns,
i wonder what’s become of this tiny house.

The wallpapers peeling,
i hear the voices squealing,
fire and flames begin to engulf this tiny house.

I wish i found a reason to run, a place to call my own where i could sit by the sun.
I wish i could but i know i can’t, instead i walk to the ***.

as the flames tickle my bones i come to accept my role in this tiny house.