Fresh paint, mowed lawns, a pretty place From the outside for everyone to see Could be nothing but serenity On the other hand was a place of disgrace The captives have no chance to flee They are no longer aware of reality Sweet little of ladies and gentlemen they are Can no longer protect themselves from harm's way But all have a sweet smile Their last chance to wish on a star Not many listen to what they have to say They are about to make their last mile With the mind of a child, they trust everyone Even the ones that abuse But seldom a visit from a relative In their way they know what has been done In the end, they are the ones that lose If they revolt, they are given a sedative A deep dark secret kept that is long over due Needs to be brought out in the open For old bones and gray hairs And let it be true Remember, we are their children Empty mind, hallow stare, and wheelchairs