Beggars Can't Cry

Room so white, and padded with pillows...

Straps so tight, constricting my emaciated body

Hair so long and weak, blinding me from the walls I have constructed...

Air so stagnant, and so arid...

Strangling my lungs, and quickening my breaths

Days old food, spoiled and grotesque, stain my ever so white cage...

Splotches of green, and brown...

Such colors bring life to the withering food, and to my cell

But, I know it shall not last...

All life must diminish within this hell hole...

It's an unbending destiny...that I have come to accept as a custom...

But, cry I shall not

Thy tears had left long before...

When the walls did not block my light, and the colors roamed ever so freely...

It's too late for coping, or soothing thy memories with eternal song...

Too late for pity, it's presence will only delay the inevitable

And it is way too late for hoping

For the mercy and grace of HER...