Trapped

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Those words made of buttercream do nothing to cease your aching

Those lies are a sword; iron sword that leaves your heart breaking

You were raised this way, child

Do not stray from the path of good

Those chains grinding against your wrists leave scars that won't heal

As your mind thrashes and screams; pleads to know what is real

You were raised this way, child

Do not stray from the life we chose

That cell that surrounds you does not fall at the words of those who love you

That key on the wall does not unlock the path to the healing of your tortured past

You were raised this way, child

Do not act like your life is a choice you make 

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