CASTE

I wish I could ask,
I wish I could ask
so many things, but I know
the answers will never come, 
still things get done, 
by hand, by tongue, 

Sometimes I want to run, 
but bees have wings, 
and life will sting...
in this race 
I live in last place,

I want to ask,
I want to ask,

I am caste into a system 
of bitter demands, 
to see a plan 
I'd give my right hand,

...Yes,
the simple will ignore, 
and so I implore. 
Help me find a door. 
Help me find the door.