House of Pain

The end of the innocence came
on beating wings along with a hashing beak  
That tore at my flesh
ripped out my heart
crippled my soul
and buried
this child under a  
solid cloak of despair
so thick and dark it felt like
being buried alive
or not alive.  
 
Sometimes when I involuntarily  
drive past that house of pain and
get a glimpse of
the lights glowing through its windows
illuminating other people‘s  
hearts and souls and lives
witness their laughter and joy
inside its stony shell
I ask myself if they
the others  
can‘t sense the remnants
of a broken child
hiding as volatile shadows  
without consolation
within the imprisoning walls.
 
Sometimes when  
I mercifully dream
a craven flower of hope
attempts to break through  
thick layers of manure
emerging from shit and soil.