Sometimes, I hear the children outside my apartment screaming... Crying.
I walk to the window, looking out, but I don't see them.
They are hidden away, in a room somewhere, that I can't observe. That none of us see.
We just hear the wails, and we deal with the issues when they are grown.
One night, I heard a girl screaming at the top of her lungs
And it brought me back to when friends at school saw a bite mark on my arm
And their mother said that I would be safe from then on.
I then remember walking back to my house and seeing the front door,
And realizing that no one comes to save you.