A Person's Raging Wrath

Words can hurt
Make you feel like dirt

Being stepped on a thousands of times 
Feeling as if this should be called crimes

The wrath of one makes me feel all alone
Feel like I'm at the bottom of a well made out of stone

Nobody wonders where I might be
Something is wrong can't they see?

I'm missing I'm missing
That someone shall find me is all I'm wishing

Then that day comes, a few heads I do see at the top of my prison 
But the fact they aren't doing anything has risen

People gather around snickering at me 
Not one even wondering how this came to be

Hours come and go as do the days
I think of being rescued in many different ways

Some days I see sun peeking through the top of the well
Other days the weather is as bad as the smell

While I sit I think and I think 
Staring at the wall I don't even blink

How did I get down here? Do you really want to know?
It was the doing of a foe

A person's raging wrath