Resting my tiresome eyes, whilst not listening to whom has to speak;
For I know what the truth is, yet no one sees as clear as the words that go unheard.
These beings make no sounds, a voice box gone to waste;
I strive to hear them, and somehow I know what is being, said without lifting my head.
You see not just anyone is in charge of their actions, for not one person can decide their fates;
This action is left to the leader, the sheriff, the ruler, whom is in charge of this place.
They are a void in the system, a bump overlooked;
and when they are stepped on, the victims say, "we mis-under-stood".
You've yet to guess this second-best group of suppressed and what's next?
Well no one's bet! We can't make these decision based off the majority,
the leaders have a stake, and if they go down they won't be the minority.
With more problems yet to surface, we've seen not a fraction of the real mission,
these animals have no idea of life outside of a house, but there's no kitchen.
What is being said is no matter how hard we try, these animals are bound to meet a fryer;
The "man" in charge, whom leaves the scars, has yet to see he leads the life of a liar.
With advocation comes the declaration that one person can make a change;
I want to be said person, even if my voice is the one to blame.
I'll take the fumble, the steady stumble, for the ones who need me most;
for if I can adminster change, save their names, then they won't be left to roast.