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.