He sits there and looks confused.
He has been thrown around, completely used.
Whatever his brain can't do
His eyes will see right through.
A monstrous nightmare but oh so clever indeed.
What they don't want, someone else will always need.
He picks at his skin
He knows he'll never win.
Calculating the facts and the figures
Mapping out his one time signature.
Hoping that everything is right
So maybe he can actually sleep in his own bed tonight.
Scratching at the surfaces of his chair.
All his promises he would bare.
Knowing that this could be his last time to try.
Or his last forbidden goodbye.
©terrylin53
T