ghosts in the closet

 We are mindless and empty
left to a world full of pity.
A world meant to be so empty
The kids cry for their mothers, we cry for slaughter.

The morticians daughter spoons her father cough syrup because he cuts his wrist and got sick.

The Ghosts hide in the closet waiting,
waiting for friends.
their lonely remorse you can hear from the house next door.

The children keep confided in their room waiting for their mom to get out of the hospital soon.
They cry tears for their mother because they have no other.

But still she comes back in a casket and her daughters asked for it.

Her daughters sit and cake on makeup of her mother hoping she would become her.

Years go by and time stays still but yet it still seems to go on.

Tortured and broken by her friends in the closet. and Still waiting for the morticians touch.