On open bare walls, stand remaining kindred hearts,
Smiling, like one should be,
Portrait, or portrait, deratest tell the story,
Of how those smiles turned around,
By youngest sister, whose flaming soul, be re-lit by love,
By only son, whose happiness may stretch for miles, if not undone,
By mother, by father, who want us to live the lives they breathe,
For sweet dreams of hopeful words,
Have turned to tears of sorrow, by stinging insults.
Dearest parents, in which fake love I give,
May I remind you, that family is about family,
And not the success of future lives,
Hardships these children endure, they help themselves,
Let the portrait of fake, forced smiles,
Turn into the purest of happiness,
And by oldest child… for we do not speak of,
For she is long gone. Hidden soul.
A hatred candle may be gone.
But fear of leaving her own family,
One daughter, one son, one love,
All pending approval,
Of dearest parents love,
Reverse the words, bring back the light,
And may she return, to celebrate in delight.