Broken

There was a girl in a box that was filled with pain.

She lay in pieces inside the world she feigned.

She wondered what would happen if she had stayed.

She wondered if ever opened what would remain.

Of her.

Is the her inside real, or something to make her feel. Warm?

Is it all just a lie? The world inside of the pain she feigned, yet nothing remained of. Her.

Is anything real? Her promise inside the ring is an illusion, and the birds sing out their lies to come to a conclusion. They watch us and only need the amusement to keep them happy with music. That they feign. Is their world the same ours? Are they looking for sun and

flowers? Besides the sea when they sit for an hour, knowing to heed and who has the power. Us.

The humanious cowards, who sit in the tower holding something captive. World peace. This isn't attractive, stop adding subtracting, the things that aren't ours for catching. Our colors are not matching, if message is not got there's a pager for faxing, but we're too busy taxing. We worry about others yet we're the ones lacking.

Still there is silence, and we are broken.