Above I see lines of light
Below I feel a cold floor of stone
In front I see what seems a dream
A dream delighting the dark
And cutting my heart slowly
For I see children bleeding
The children are shedding blood
The children are bleeding screams
Needles, hooks, and knives
They have cut the children's chests
They have cut the children's tummies
Altogether they sing a lullaby of pain
The children drown in water
Yet they would breathe again
By the shock of the white coats
They tell us it is our time to play
Only for them to play with us
We are no more than their toys
The children are shedding tears
The children are bleeding fears
Glass, metal, and stone
They have become our cage
They have become our home
Alone we sing an elegy of pain
Our voices become more quiet
As the days move forward
We now only talk with hands
Speaking with our own blood
The glass walls turn red
Our blood prints are new words
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
Above I see lines of light
Below I feel a cold floor of stone
In front I see what seems a dream
A dream delighting the dark
And cutting my heart slowly
For I see children bleeding
The children are shedding blood
The children are bleeding screams
Needles, hooks, and knives
They have cut the children's chests
They have cut the children's tummies
Altogether they sing a lullaby of pain
The children drown in water
Yet they would breathe again
By the shock of the white coats
They tell us it is our time to play
Only for them to play with us
We are no more than their toys
The children are shedding tears
The children are bleeding fears
Glass, metal, and stone
They have become our cage
They have become our home
Alone we sing an elegy of pain
Our voices become more quiet
As the days move forward
We now only talk with hands
Speaking with our own blood
The glass walls turn red
Our blood prints are new words
Request permission to use this poem