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If not for the carols I sing
There would be no music in my heart.
The memories that I wish to bring
Dig up and keep alive, are in the dark.

The knives, the scissors,
They cut.
They damage.
They make one bleed.

In the black pit, it is dark.
The sun is behind a screen,
Not to be seen.

I am not their child

My mouth, I open to speak
But the words fall on ears, deaf.
Words come out of their own,
I'm silenced.

Look I do, hopeful
Hoping to catch an eye.
Invisible I am to see.
I cry.

Hurt they do not see,
Words they do not hear.
I do not exist to them.
I am not their child.