I remember Torture. My skin is burning like hell. I saw some of them faces in your memory box. Psychiatric Convention 66. I remember them faces and the Helicopter.
And now? It is still the same war going on. I still see the faces, different faces but the same. Different Helicopters, but the same.
Still, I found back to you. Even with my last breath. Coming home to die within your arms
ps. never talk about discipline to a tortured child!