In their little iron galaxies;
The masses depart as if the road was built for them,
It's like my kind doesn't even exist.
As I swipe passed their windows,
They wield a sword of steel;
I only have a crutch of bone.
Putting my life in the hands of strangers;
Do they even care enough to slow down?
Walking besides bustling traffic...
Could trip my legs at any time;
And they might drift to the left,
And my entire life would be over.
I cross the street jaywalking,
I tilt my head to the left;
Waiting to see if they look me in the eyes...
I must be recognized or I shall disappear!
When they stop are they finally aware?
Aware that they carry another's soul,
They catch me like a snowflake when I fall;
And they finally notice it's snowing.
