Struggling my way into the crowd,
I have opposed all I thought couldn't stand out.
I'm an outlaw,
As some might speak,

But my mind,
I dunno why,
Cares for all those who freak at me.
Those shouts, pains and hatred around,

I've ignored patiently.
Just staggered on the ground.
I've been kicked and bluffed,
Mocked and thought ill off.

I agree though that I'm a bit imposing and track-off.
Rebels have to face that,
And I'm one of those clans.
There's a dream that burns in like forest fire,

I wanna write and write to my heart's desire.
But unless it's the will of someone else,
I cannot lift my pen up,
I'm helpless.

Whom shall I think of?
What shall I do?
Whom to speak to?
Are my works admired?
Where to land my helpless feet?

My pen demands endurance,
But that's yet to come along.
And I know I'll rebel one day,
And my pen will break ALL LAWS.