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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