I live in a lame land
Like those castrated clap
Who can only dance in
And out side of an alley.
Here is no living words for
Unknown names, and life exists
Only to die like a nameless chicken
In an urban market.
Here word generates only
To boost the hungry members.
The numbers are all in
The line with fluttering flags
To gather colours.
I live in a lame land
Among those lame dwellers.
