Bloodstained Walls

Look at my walls,
Painted perfectly pink.
But now look much harder;
Look harder and think.

See the cracks and the chips.
See paint fading away.
See the once so bright colours,
That have deepened to gray.

Look at the colour:
It is bloodstained and red.
Covered with tears,
That I painfully shed.

If my walls had such eyes,
Oh the horrors they’d see.
If my walls had ears too,
Pain would never come free.

And if my walls had a mouth,
Oh the stories they’d tell.
How I cried through each night.
For my life made in hell.

So I tried to repaint,
Cover up all the scars.
But my cautions had failed,
I had gone way to far.

They will never be perfect;
They will always be cracked.
So ask them a story,
And they’ll tell mine exact.