The air ferries me forward.
I’m riding on the winds of change.
When I hit the dead end -
My pride will smash on the pains
Of windows kept shut in disdain
For my kind. The kind who have
No kind to gain. Nor to lose
Or loosen any chains.
But end up being shackled
As stardust in the same
kind of Air that would choke us
Till it ****** rains.