Chris DeGarmo)

Little girl sits in the corner
locked in a stare.
Arms waiving madly at something
that sadly isn?t there.
Dressed in the day?s best by a nurse
who?s nowhere to be found.
What does she see ?
Maybe she?s looking at me.

Old man is strapped to the seat of his chair
wearing a gown,
shouting and cursing at someone who clearly
isn?t around.
Faher Time has twisted his mind. The staff says,
?He?s not well !?
To whom does he speak ?
Maybe he?s speaking to me.

So we keep these people inside these walls,
from society.
Their forgoten lives safe from the crowd,
they can?t leave.
Through the doors come people like me,
good-bye to them.
They see a picture few of us see.
They can?t leave.
You?ve left them here for me