In a world where money is
what matters not feelings hopes or dreams.
If you're broken your replaced, after all children are the future.
On automatic, exhausted am I. Perform do, feel no.
Forced to be silent and just do, feet sore. Still my body
Is. Laying numbly on my bed of needles. Thinking of things,
that have been said. The silence is deafening--my jaw locks shut.
I feel the need to fill the empty void. It's now dark, the
chains are lost. My voice feels the need to be heard
I try to drown it out with voices of others.
But as I sit I feel the butterflies bre-
-aking out of their cocoons
My conscience can be
heard without being
Am I to be listened
to?A single voice
Alone is quiet.I
know who will
to miniscule me,
The Internet. Where My voice Can Be Heard.