I’m a walking vessel but my corps is out to sea. I walk this land pretending to know who I am. I pass different eyes everyday and all they see me as is the straw man. In the flesh I know exactly who I’m meant to be but on documents an paper a disclaimer, false identification, the g.o.v. has taken my name but you won’t believe me. What is it that my soul has felt? Whips and chains, backlashes from a belt, aches an blood stains. A slave I still am but that’s something I had to rediscover, I demand more pain....please sir may I have another?