My Number
The needle pierces my skin and releases it’s ink
The prick is nothing compared to what I’ve already been through
My name is forgotten
My identity lost
I am nothing but a number
They call those dreadful digits
And I respond like a robot
Automatic and without thought
I am nothing but a number
One of many
Stripped of their dignity
Even when I leave
It stays with me
I am nothing but a number.
This poem is about:
Our world