The room sits alone with only Darkness by its side.
Everything so pure and white is surely bound to die.
The walls scream to be loved and painted so,
But anyone that stays inside will always want to go.
Sheets of plywood laid, alone and all about,
People taunted, used, then forcefully shut out.
Soon these walls will crack and tear with every nail of
pain,
For every night, with no one there, these walls cry in 
vain.
Some people say with hurtful words the way they hate this 
room,
For if you come in, and lend a hand, you're bound to be in 
doom.
The walls wait for me to paint them with such glee,
But for now I'll have to wait, until age catches up with 
me..