I am glue drying in the sun
Stuck here on the pavement of frustration
I am Flowing from an ink pen
When no ink will come
Prisoner to imagination with no paper in sight
I write on my hands
It bleeds through my flesh
Permeates the expanse
And I collapse on top of the night

What did you do
To make me bleed?
What have did you do
To fight the rebellion
In the confines of your need?