To many people this paper means hardly anything
And the ink used to write this means almost nothing
Yet the words and what they represent, what they hold
The power of these ideas and feelings; something to behold
However a cruel fate has been bestowed upon me
My words go unnoticed when that's all they're meant to be
If people don't listen, then my words barely mean something
My ideas, my feelings don't exist and I mean nothing
This is the harsh reality I must accept.
In the end I remain silent, unheard- no hope
Who I really am, a secret forced to be kept
Perhaps I will finally be heard with the help of a rope.