I stuck on the label
My shirt capped with snow
I smiled as I was able
My voice my words could show

All who came to me
Read quickly and ran more
My label was not picky
Of who should fear my tooth and claw

I looked down unto its face
And it looked back into mine.
Not one who found themself in place
Could speak quite like my label's whine.

'Not you, not me, not anyone
Is free to be themself
While I am here you're already gone
For words make rich those ones with wealth.'

I clung to him and ripped him forth,
But horror thudded and with it, tied
My heart stuck to the paper and its morph
Was into a label as I died.

And die I did, but still the words
Stayed until I faded free,
Though I sleep the men in herds
Will speak the mind they have of me.