We were eaten by the demons in ourselves
We were pushed and pushed into this state
Until we retreat into our own private hell
We cry for the hope that someone will hear
We stay quiet hoping someone will listen
We hurt ourselves; we want attention
But we push away for our fears
It starts with a kid
It ends with a grave and the guilt in your
eyes
You know it’s your fault for this ending in
us
We children will never have a chance.
By M. Canfield