Alone in this room with the four padded walls.
Another prisoner of this hell cries out and bawls.
We all committed the same crime, or so we thought.
No idea what our new futures brought.
Endless hours of questions, or help as they call it.
But we did not like it, not one bit.
What did I do to deserve this treatment?
Mails here, and another letter THEY sent.
The people who put me in here.
I rip the envelope open with fear.
We are coming to see you they say.
I lean back on the padded floor and just lay.
Soon it is time for the persecution to begin.
Is what I do really such a sin?
I don't want to go I tell the guards in white.
They respond well your going, so you best not fight.
Soon we are paraded out to the "perfects" who have no guilt, not one trace.
Our mothers, fathers, and spouses stand there in place.
Then time is over, we go to our rooms.
Sit there and wait, wait for our dooms.
Was my crime really that bad?
I was just depressed, and so very sad.
I'm sorry I did it, really I am.
I'm sorry I bled, don't take me back with them.
I want to go with my mom, dad, and Sally our little mut.
I'm sorry I did it, I'm sorry I cut.
