My job through the eyes of a 14 year old girl. Be prepared to cry.
Is this place a punishment?
Or is this place a test?
Black Eyes, black heart
With every end, there’s a new scar
You think some sense would come through our heads
But everything we bang it on the wall, our brain cells go dead
*Stolen keys, slammed doors
Broken walls, people strained to floors
Why do we all judge each other
When none of us know how the others affected.
Some feel loved, some feel neglected
Some have abused
Some have been abused
Most of us don’t even know what’s really going on with the person standing beside you…
*So before you judge, the least you can do
Is try to understand what they’ve been through
***If this isn’t powerful then I don’t know what is…