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The Sorrow Filled Cries

Why'd I have to be born in such a place?
Into something closest to hell,
The family I had and the guilt I will never have.
Why are people blaming me of killing the thing called my father?
And why am I blaming myself for killing my own mother?
Guilt will forever stain me,
I feel immortal to my own tears,
The tears that are needles sliding down my cheeks,
Burning my skin with each drop,
Screaming: “will it ever stop?!”
The world forever hates me,
I am stained by each curse,
And slapped with each hurtful song,
My mind just wants to be in a world far from here,
Where life is happy and grand,
Where I won't have to lift a hand,
To a photographer as I stammer by,
Them asking me questions
“why?” they ask,
“Why did you do it?”
I shrug and don't know the answer to it.
“we know you did it I know its true!” yells reporters from the crowd.
As I step in the court,
No reporters are there, seems God must have answered some of my prayers.
As I sit at a desk infront of the judge.
“did you do it? Or are you being judged?”
I silently nodded and said without care,
“how did I do it, when I wasn't there.”
The crowd gasped as they sat there in shock.
“You were not there? How can that be? Is this the big buzz and are you just the bee?”
I nodded kindly and smiled the first time in years,
“after all why would I kill my family? Just for you to see these tears?”
I sat there still unable to move the judge looked at me and replied:
“this young woman is innocent, you are free to go.”
As I finally stand up tears stream down my face.
I knew I didn't do it but why this case?
Who told I did this crime?
For no one will know who told except for only a little bumble bee,
My sorrow filled cries will always remain as long as I am alive,
Since I will live for the end of time my sorrow filled cries will always turn to crimes.
And the innocent that inhabit these cries and crimes should stick up for themselves instead of hiding in lies.

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The Sorrow Filled Cries



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