Pillows drenched in damp graffiti;
arms so empty, hearts so needy.
Begging sense of senseless hurt;
wrap beloved in the dirt.
Horrors seen by unaged eyes,
seen, unseeing, in midnight skies.
Once again, the peace is broken-
sometimes names are threats, unspoken.
Helpless hands are wrung and twisted,
What's the moral?
Guess we missed it.
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