We stood alone in a group. We felt lonely. We were the ones that kept on going even when life kept coming. Its the truth. We are survivors. In this day and age we have no noble cause to champion, no grand ideal to enforce, no over-reaching dictator to dispose. We fight for our identity. As a person, as a child, as a parent, as a son, as a daughter. We fight for ourselves. To be seen, heard and understood. Its the perverse penetrative scheme set in motion because we are tired of our lot. Tired of being hopeless, subject to the pity and scorn of those just a thread above us on the loom of fate. We're spun a tale as old as time; about the nature of luck, but this time we fight back, we rise, we live.