Millions

You can only have one

they said;

Make it a boy

they said.

We millions were not boys.

Out fermented hands reaching

and down the ground littered with us,

Voices crying out

silently, not heard, not seen, wrapped

in plastic

singed at the edges.

Lambs led to sacrifice,

born only for that.

So many lost

with hearts stilled

long before true beating—

beating—

And silence.

Who is left? I am

here.

One of millions

to find a path

unwanted or forbbiden,

different.

Our forgotten generation spread

like sheer, thin plastic

the same covering

our fellow sisters,

our fallen sisters,

little angels fly away.

I'd let the little angels fly away.