I live in a place called Thompson Two,
Where all is battered and nothing new.
This goes quite well with the people here,
Whose minds are all entwined with fear.
We fear the outside; its tough to cope
Without the aid of a form of dope.
For some its H, coke or speed;
For some its arson, a perverted deed.
One is a vandal; another a queen.
One tried murder; anothers just mean.
And some just didnt think their worth
Deserved to remain on this good earth.
What binds us all in this lowly place
Is the look of fear on every face.
The cry for help within our eyes.
The search for strength in family ties.
When first I came to here, I felt
That Id do some sculpting, maybe make a belt.
A ring or a locket; a painting, some school
In the arts of poker, blackjack or pool.
I thought Id have a good old time,
Learning of me to a tranquil chime.
I didnt expect the shock of it all.
I didnt expect it to be such a haul.
Its the toughest fight Ive ever had.
Ive learned much of myself that is truly sad.
But as well I have learned that life offers much
To those of us who will fight the crutch.
We have the strength within us all
To make life rich, to brighten the pall.
Im working hard, I wont stop tryin
I want to end up like the Cowardly Lion.
Who found out to his surprise one day
That courage wasnt just given away.
That its always there for us to find.
That, indeed, its all a state of mind.
So we search ourselves here at Thompson Two
To find within us what the Lion found too.
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