The marks on the walls spill the clues
And answers to the questions asked
Of all the actions he miscontrues
The walls absorb all his expressions unmasked

Laughter bounced off them
And things were into them jabbed
His soul being the crème de la crème
That seeped out when his back was stabbed

And screaming was the sound of remorse
That rang out across the scape of his mind
And deafened his soul until he was hoarse
He took the pain that was dealt him in kind
At night his teeth begin to grind
And his fiendish thoughts begin to contort

But the sun rises and the shadows quickly fade
Surely soon and yes the grass may be greener
But why cross if only to hide from the shade
But he's finally gotten over the barricade