What is a writer if not a slave What is a soul without a mask What might a person be without a lie And what might you be if not your own We watch in fear as we are written in tails Watching the horrors we go through You wake up one day and you will feel numb As if your soul has left you barren My name is miles, and I am 1 of 8 billion There are only so many writers And yet I chose to be Trial and Error, we all find our way at some point