This town is built over lies

Over dead bodies

The trees we pick our fruit from

Tainted by the spilled blood of our ancestors

The halls we walk down once walked through by people we now dare not name

The halls are poisoned

The doors hiding secrets

Every creak in a floor board telling echoing tales of sorrow

Grief

Affairs

Lies

This town is built over lies

The shallow graves we bury our dark pasts

Seeping into the soil

Poisoning the crops

Tainting the future generations

This small town

The halls are poisoned

The trees that bear our fruit

Their roots…

Tainted by the spilled blood of our ancestors