Desolate home, encumbered through vain
Vanished cause, they mended from pain
Hollowed away, yet broken inside
Screams for help, they come at night
Though different cries, like kids at play
Lost and abandoned, without a way
Flourishing freedom, from here to the moon
The lives worth living, yet ended too soon
So, fly away children; I can hear your calls.
The whispers are loud; they come from the walls.