it is addressed thusly:
A song.it reads:
I came from the bottom of a matchbox
Numbers and letters printed by machine
Someone's voice somewhere talks
Someone's eye must have overseen
Do they even know that I am alive
Who thought to perfect the world in time
Who sought to end every petty crime
Do they care to know that I am alive?
Do they care that life is, beneath the glow
Of every platitude, but spoken below
A whisper, they dare not even strive
They dare not say that they do not know
Of the every rich thing they made to come
To the hands of those who do their good
Who should dare to speak against anyone
Who knows and says what anyone should?
But I who speak, am I mad because
I am as one always without a hope
Not well-adjusted, I could not cope
With their humane but inhuman laws?
The tongue they bless with also mocks--
A joke that moves - a punchline that talks
That is what I am! Still the artist draws--
I came from the bottom of a matchbox.