THE CONVOY

I AM HURT I must admit, I am hurt Like a little bird, I'd rather not tut But I guess it's the symbol you hold I feel it deep in my neck, like a stuck stalk If pain wasn't a solid factor, I'd rather not talk I am not that alive neither do I exude bravery Now, I am scared or would I say wary? That you have now become the bullies that you preach against.