• These clouds we breathe.
    A sigh of relief,
    The fire we felt underneath,
    Is burning still.
    And it's even every word we speak.

    Yet every word we speak is tainted,
    We are the puppets of someone greater,
    They pull the strings,
    We break and bend over backwards,
    To hear a word of thanks.
    But no thanks will come.
    We fear the words.