My shirt’s stained red from the beating
Bruises and muscles just need some kneading
My nine lives are simply waning
Just another human that needs saving
The clouds cover the sun almost daily
The book’s covers are getting dusty
As my life, I feel it sinking
A dark abyss, my heart is shrinking
The ones here are hardly worth the trouble
And yet, it’s a small and comfortable bubble
Find a niche, but don’t disagree
They’ve made a simple comment, yet set a decree
My shirt’s stained red from the beating
Bruises and muscles just need some kneading
A cold pack of ice to numb the pain
What will it do to erase the stains?
A public confession: hear it now
My head’s a mess as I take that bow
To understand the message here
The glory of being quite austere
A message I don’t completely understand
As I bring myself up and take that stand
Against the wrong but against the right
Hoping all could feel contrite
My shirt’s stained red from the beating
Bruises and muscles just need some kneading
A figure to show the light, heal my wounds
Hear the silent shrieks and croons
Understand and make it right
Strengthen me into someone that can fight
