The Box
The box of silence in a cold black alley
By the stars and the moon she laid calmly
From the street sounds of rushing people
A crying wail a box her cradle
Five tiny fingers reachout to the sky
As infant tears run from her eyes
A nest of rats crawl and eat
Garbage scattered around her feet
Little tears falling without rest
Tiny arms beg for mothers breast
Each passing day her hunger grows
As rain starts falling she's all alone
Nourishing eyes began to blacken
For now the nights began to weaken
Passers by turn and walk away
Then just move on with their day
The box that held pinks now blue
As her whimpers die for no rescue
The cold chilling nights begin to unfold
As her mothers reaches are now ice-cold
Her blanket chewed where rats did roam
In cluttered trash a rodents home
Tears now dry her heart no tone
In a wet cold box she dies alone
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