If these walls could hear,
they'd hear my cries,
my pleas to take it all away from me.
If these walls could feel,
they'd feel my pain,
my fear,
my anger,
and all of my shame.
If these walls could think,
they'd think my thoughts,
my thoughts that run in every which way.
If these walls could know,
they'd know my torment,
my torture without a soothing refrain,
If these walls could comfort,
they'd touch my soul,
my soul shattered and breaking more every day.
If these walls could help,
they;d ease my mind,
my mind that needs reason to sleep away.
But these walls don't think,
don't hear,
don't feel.
Stand there, unforgiving, and cold as steel.
They make up the cell from which I made,
standing, not stopping, till I end my days.
