There was no way out of the blackest of rooms,
where ironically, every single thing inside was white.
It was an ordinary house of stone,
just one of the many places you would take me to,
where strangers would always greet us at the door.
It was a house where there seemed to be
wars from religions,
and being young and naive, I almost convinced myself
that the mysterious men inside were the ones on the news
who were causing terrorist attacks,
only this time, the victims seemed to be
the children that nobody wanted.
As much as we tried to escape,
there was just no way out
of the blackest of rooms,
in the house where everything was white.
