My Concrete Home

My hunger consumes,
as creations like myself pass me bye.
I am cold and afraid,
but still my pride will not allow no tears to leave my eyes.
I need help, is what my sign say's, and yet they read and look away asif im already dead.
Im created in his image just like you, but they act like i sleep in this box because i want to.
I think about suicide every second of the day, then i pause and close my knife thinking about what jesus would say.
I will not let my misfortune destroy me, for the sand in the hourglass will dissolve on its own.
Then i will take my fathers hand and he will finally lead me home.

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