My Number

The needle pierces my skin and releases it’s ink

The prick is nothing compared to what I’ve already been through

My name is forgotten

My identity lost

I am nothing but a number

They call those dreadful digits

And I respond like a robot

Automatic and without thought

I am nothing but a number

One of many

Stripped of their dignity

Even when I leave

It stays with me

I am nothing but a number.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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