Voices were screaming at me,

Blaming, blocking me from being free.

I was guilty, allowing them to eat me whole.

I was lucky they left a bit of pity in the bowl.   

The lies they scattered, the trash they told,

It was like spotting a bit of mold,

Suddenly judging, disgust lacing their faces,

I was merely one more of their sad races,

To them, my misery was another sick game,

And this might seem a bit too lame,

But even death seemed better than life,

My fragile frozen heart wanted no more,

I was hurt terribly all the way to core.

Is it fair enough to say,

I wouldn't like to see another day?