He loves us, Sweetie. Due to incorrect formatting, this poem had previously been eliminated. It has now been corrected. Swinging around in the whimsical breeze. Empty footsteps fill the hall within trudging on over and over again.
Hideous laughter rings out from The walls, at something that deserves no chuckles at all.
Hollow empty vacant eyes, nothing inside them to hide. Skeletons in these closets are much to real. Abuse has been accepted into too many lives. Something this country should no longer hide. Did somebody scream, you must Of imagined it, in this tomb of a dream.