Corners.
Corners.
Everywhere I look there are corners.
Windows, no windows.
No doors.
No brightness, no light.
No escape in sight.
Cornered, I feel cornered.
They're pointing fingers.
They are. Who are they?
Who are they to tell me,
To sit between corners.
Corners, I feel cornered.
They are trying to erase every memory,
Making me lose track.
Corners, around the cornered.
When you feel cornered,
Look carefully,
There might be a crack.