We Are The Damaged

The streets of grey grit, times of smoke's flicker.
Child-monster gangs, I had no friends.
Nobody understood my silence.
I met a machine, and it obeyed me.
I felt like a god
and I became whole.

Very small talk, no drinks,
all letters and numbers:
"RUN"
I never had control, before.

Before, everything sinful,
harmful, fears of pain
now gone.
We're free and growing
like the newborn child
we have become.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.