Orphanage

It's dark and cold
And smells of urine.
200 children sleep
In beds.
Their eyes are closed
And breaths are steady,
Their little dreams
Are ripped to shreds.

And every morning
With the sunrise,
They are awake
They're fed
And then
They're taken out
Into the garden
To see the sun
& feel alive
Before the darkness
Comes again.

The sun will shine
On every child
And give a blessing
To each one
Allowing them
To trail slowly
In their little
Dreamy land.

In there they have
Two loving parents,
And place that they
Can call a 'home'.
In there they're
Loved and cared for,
Not beaten,
Strangled or controlled.

And every time
Their eyes are opened,
And every time
That they don't dream,
They're cold and scared
And hard working
To earn a meal
For the next day.

They all have
Just one thing in common
They're trapped
and prisoned in a place
Where love is dead
And souls are honored
By bitter, hate
And fatal end.