Scorn me for my feelings
As I have no right to them
I will be that figure for you
So you may know your blessings
Mock me for my lack
For i am lacking in oh-so-much
Comfort yourself in these things
Point to the man with no comfort
Use the fear to ensure compliance
So you may not know hunger or lack
Someone must be the cautionary tale
Someone must die so others may live
Someone must pay retail and shipping
Someone must take one for the team
Someone must take the bullet
Burn me at a crossroad
Scatter my ashes
To the four winds
To make it seem
As if I never was
For i was never real
To anyone but me.
About the Creator
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Oliver sat at a cold, grey steel-covered table. He knew he was next. The longer he sat here, the more confident he knew he wouldn’t make it. His hands were tied to the chair he was sitting on, pushed up against the steel table. A small camera in the corner of the ceiling with a tiny red flashing light was the only thing he was focused on. He felt sick to the stomach. He knew he didn’t have long.
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