A death note.

I have never heard silence

In this mansion before

Shattering of glasses

Plates and vases

“Look at her! That lucky girl”

They all said, but

They never knew, what happened

Within that four walls of prison.

Inside one cell, lived a woman

Strands of white hair, maybe into her forty’s

She sews a white cloth, with tears

Down her cheeks, streaming without a break

In the other, lived a girl in her 20’s

A stack of books, and a roll of paper

She glances afar, reaching her hands out

To snatch her dream from the treacherous man

Within the four walls in the corner

Is a girl in her teenage

Dusty books and crumpled papers

She never looks up from

That pamphlet she holds onto

A death note perhaps.

He comes in, the traitor

The man who trapped his family

For his mere pleasure

He looks into the cell

His once beloved life, now his sole enemy.

He gets satisfied, seeing

Her wrinkles and her tears

He then looks into the next

And curses her for

Chasing her dreams, dreams

She once had.

He goes to the next, his youngest daughter

He spits into the cell

Smiling his heart out.

He pours something in

With pungent smell and

Warning sigh. He lights a match

And throws it in.

He laughs aloud, while

The others wept.

A mother who lost her penny

A Sister who lost her diary.