They call it progress, call it fate,
Call it wisdom—legislate.
A law to stop the ones who stray,
A rule to keep the wolves at bay.
They dress the cage in silver chains,
Soft as silk, yet still remains.
Speak too loud, they pull it tight,
Step too far, you lose the fight.
Yet still we smile, still we sing,
Praise the ones who clip our wings.
For who needs flight when we are fed?
Why seek truth when lies are spread?
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