This Box
Oh what sorrow I feel for the ones that get left behind,
All our lives we seek the truth,
We never seem to find the reason for the loss of kindness,
Never understanding that they have so much hate for us,
All the holidays we celebrate alone,
But still we must go on,
The feeling as if we were placed in a forgotten box upon a shelf of shamefulness,
Why did they do this to us,
What have we done to be made to endure the shame they feel for us,
We hope that one day they will remember us,
But only to be disappointed from one day to the next,
Oh the pain we feel as we scream in the darkness of our box,
Our voices seeming to fade away,
We dream of what could have been,
But only to awake in the darkness of our box,
Now that the season of our lives is coming to a close,
We can’t help but to wonder did they truly forget us,
Will we be remembered or is this box our life long tomb,
Do they feel no shame for what they have done,
Not knowing us for who we are,
The joy we could have brought,
The happiness they could have felt,
The family we could have been,
They truly will never know,
But again we must go on,
It’s been decades now,
But we still miss them,
Remembering all the while,
This box is our home.
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