About one percent of the population know an average joe like me exist. About one tenth of that one percent care about my story. The legacy i have left behind in a flurry of dust, unspoken words, and fingerprints. Once i am gone, my story, left for the walls to tell. My fingerprints would be overlapped by others, smudged, and erased unknowingly. No two fingerprints are the same, no one can have the same fingerprints that i do. When i leave, when i die, my fingerprints, the only thing that confirmed my existence, will fade, and be lost into the backs of people's minds. People's minds. The walls that connect one from the next, or should i say, hide. We keep behind these walls, we keep to our own. We are lost into the depths of society that makes our lives for us. My fingerprints are the only thing they cannot change. Unless they cut each hand off, they cannot take away the one freedom i have. My fingerprints show who i am, my raw person, but they will be left, a story for the walls to tell as i move on with my life just like society expects. Society can tell me where to live, to work and even who to marry, but it can’t tell me where i can place my fingerprints.