To the Misunderstood and Murderous
A young boy sits alone
Locked away in his cell
Charges says he killed 15 people
While trapped in his own hell
Why did he do it?
What made him lose his mind?
Detectives search for the answers
But only new questions do they find
I really wish they knew
Could they understand?
His mommy was a whore
His father an absent man
What he went through every day
Was more then he could bear
The pain he felt inside
Caused his sanity to tear
His life as a child
Took an awful turn
On the darkest night his house caught fire
His sister left to burn
Mother couldn't take it
And so she ceased to care
Her little boy like a shadow
Treated as if he wasn't there
People call him pathetic
But they don't know a thing
Only a true human feels compassion
And understands his suffering
I'm not trying to justify his deeds
For once just wanting to explain
For one that laughs at another's sorrow
Has never felt true pain
For what is left when all is gone
Is there even an option to choose?
Is life truly worth living
When you have nothing left to lose?
YOU ARE READING
The Land of the Butterflies
PoetryA fake Utopia born out of the lies of a forgotten memory at last resurfaces.
