As a little girl
I was thrown into a science lab for an experiment
As I sat in the corner of the dusty, white walls
Thinking about what my childhood could've been without this detriment
And I was too scared to move
The only words that could come out of my mouth was a lament

And each week the scientists would open the door
And carry me to a new place
And then they'd run tests on me
Sticking needles into my arm and face
Then I'd be returned to the dusty, white walls once more
Being put down on the ground with the coldest embrace

And one day after a failed experiment
I was put back in the room, poorly patched
And my vision blurred, my eyes ringed
And my body slowly crawled to the door and latched
And my dying body pushed it slightly, and it opened
And with my final breath, I realized there was never a lock attached.