I woke to the sound of a whistling train

In a small town where sunflowers still reigned

Where light still peaked through torn shades

And reflected like radio waves off the water down by the glade

I woke where ghosts still roamed the land

And the mountains never seemed so grand

My heavy eyes slowly opened and I gazed 

At the familiar wooden planks, still dazed

The dusty, humid air created a mirage of particles

And for a moment, I thought I saw those dreaded articles

Those bloody pieces of polyester

Left to rot and fester

Permeable fabric 

Worn by havoc 

I can still hear the screaming 

And feel my tears streaming

He broke my bones and my spirit

But I learned not to fear it

Those gleaming eyes

And my muffled cries

Oh what a tragic demise