Silent army

Sometimes we march, but most of the time we just stand in silence,

We try to march, but we stumble endlessly, but we keep on trying.

We keep in mind the words of people around us:  « I didn’t raise no quitter, no punkass, no weak! You don’t quit, you don’t retreat, you keep on moving ».

Those words feel like an insult, because we are doing our best not to quit but it is so over our strengh, so we oftenly fail.

So we feel less deserving, less than second class citizens, less than nothing, punkass weak dirty pieces.

But somehow we still have the strenght to stay on our feet, even when we fall, we still stand on our knees.

We’ve learned to bend in order to avoid being broken.

So no matter what life throws to us, somehow we don’t die, even though we pray all days, every days for death to come to us.

So we live like zombies, dead inside but still moving to keep up appearances.

But why are we still here? Why is there so many of us, but yet no one seems to notice us?

No matter how much we put up with, our screams seem to never get out, our yellings seem to vanish into the wind. It seems like nobody can ever hear us, nor even see us.

We’ve tried calling for help, but nobody ever answered,

We’ve tried grabbing people’s hands but somehow they end up letting go  without even noticing us.

What is wrong with us? Why is nobody listening to us? Why aren’t they helping?

If we’re meant to die, then why don’t we just do so?

What is the point of being so many if we don’t even have one voice?

Nobody wants to hear about us, nobody wants to aknowledge us, nor our reality, we make them uncomfortable, we are a problem. We lost our right of being human beings because we suffer from that thing that nobody wants to talk about because they’re too afraid.

So, in silence, we stand, feeling lonely in this big silent crowd, knowing we all have the same burden that nobody wants to hear about.

We don’t want to recruit people, we wanted out, we want out, but we just don’t know how to get away.

We want to find the infamous light at the end of the tunnel, and get out,

But somehow the silent army keeps drawing us in.

Some would say we are courageous to keep on marching, but truly, we just don’t know what else to do.