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Words echoing against the plexi-glass,
The fishbowl of observaton to your soul,
With hands bound and wrists slashed,
Whispered sorrows eating you whole.
They only look to glance away,
Isn't it easier if it doesn't exist?
They think you'll snap out of it someday,
That if they ignore you, you won't persist.
And so many times you've been so hurt,
You start to not trust those looking in,
I know it's hard for you to convert,
From a belief so strong within.
But I hope that soon you'll turn to see,
That there's someone breaking in,
Someone trying to set you free,
From the prison of pain within.
I hope you'll let that someone aid,
In releasing you from your binds,
To save you from the mess that's made,
And leave the room behind.
I hope that you will take their hand,
And let them help you to the sun,
Take you away to higher lands,
A place where you won't have to run.
I pray that when you hear the door
Break and look to see,
That the someone wanting to give you more,
That someone is actually me.
~To Amanda B.
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