Chapter 1
Those helping hands keep you warm,
Those sweet words keep you calm.
But do you know where they originate,
Or refuse the doom they quietly create?
Do you truly hold what you call trust,
Or are you bound to the cruelest dust?
Do they help you out of kindness,
Or take advantage of your blindness?
They took away everything you earned, calm and precise,
Yet you stayed behind, hoping they would become more nice.
Yet somewhere beneath their delicate sympathy,
I learned that kindness can disguise hostility.
