They talked to us about our struggles,

their words we could not hear,

while being condemned and held accountable;

our vision was not clear.

Although it seemed as if we looked,

please know we could not see.

And at times of need, we felt powerless;

one day we will be free.

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You cried and judged us for all we said and did.

We couldn’t hear the words you spoke as you held the smoking gun.

Did you know that the tears we shed and the pain we felt were real?

And at no point with the devil did we plan to make a deal.

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I now want to feel the pain of loss and suffer when I grieve;

family standing by my side, whom I hope I’ll never leave.

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The contrast being joy and happiness, the sunshine rays are bright.

I want to step out of the darkness; no longer, to my neck, addiction holds its knife.

For many years I would hide from pain,

the tears I would not show.

My plan is to be no longer somebody we both used to know.