Heads Eat Their Dead

As if we had made
What we said, we are
Proud, small words in troops

Formed not for war but
For the siege of life
That makes and eats us.

We want to take it,
To hold the walled towns
Of cells, to call down

Stars to look at us.
We are mere words who
Have no clue how signs

Like us came to be,
Nor how we got here,
Fierce, as you can see.