Behind the wall tears may fall.
But children grow up in rage in a steel cage;
And though you may cry, you want to die;
And you find that the taste of flesh is a taste that is better than the rest.
Through the past is chipped, you got to pay your rent
as your life is spend.

I can see the darkness take a hold of me,
but someday I’ll be free in this land of liberty.
Pray for your children that are of the night,
that they may not be hungry, or cold,
but the chill sets in and they can’t pretend.

Some give up and say “why pretend?”
Life itself will begin again,
but for now I must take a bow.

And a little pain today and
tomorrow I won’t feel sorrow,
and it may rain; but each and every day,
I try and pray for the sleep that only comes by day;

And I say I’m not gay.
Sometimes behind the wall I must stand tall,
though its not like the mall; 
Tears my friend may fall.

Pray for me today and the sun will come up,
and the dark of night that gave me such a fright,
will be bone, but I could be wrong;

And the warmth on my cheek will come,
but I can’t run and hide,
and tender years I will drown in my tears;
forever more I shall slam the door,
to a past that did not last;
I know through the pain inside,
I won’t have to hide.

Prayers are answered,
and love will hide my sham no matter if it rains.

By David Gates