Just another human, struggling to breathe within the hoarding mass of millions. 



 I have no voice,

I can not speak, 

But like you I have a choice,

To be heard is what I seek.

By needle my lips sewed shut,

The bird in my chest caged by the ribs,

Everyday on the fringe just a half blood mut.

Look over there - my crushed wings lay worshipped in that crib,

No voice, so words of ink I write.

Collapsing and burning out we aim for the stars so bright.

Burn away this  never night.

Bloodied fists I will go out with a fight.

When I am gone, my words of ink will remain in the light.