You didn’t speak — you stayed in line,

Measured thoughts against the air,

Filtered truth through someone’s eyes,

Then shrank your voice

To fit the stare.

You said you’re free —

But flinched inside

Each time your gut and crowd

Collide.

You talk to self like it’s a threat,

Negotiate what not to feel,

Rehearse each word before it’s thought,

Forget what’s fake

And what is real.

That’s not reflection — that’s control,

A mirror carved to hide the soul.

Each choice rehearsed before you move,

Each instinct shaved to fit their groove.

You teach yourself to second-guess,

Then praise yourself

For making less.

You learn to fear the silent glance

That hunts the rebel

In advance.

We scan for safety, not for trust,

And learn to nod before we think.

You sense the room, adjust your stance,

Then dress your words

So none will sink.

We mimic fear and call it peace,

Avoid the edge where truth might crease.

They told you shame would keep us clean,

That guilt was justice painted red.

But now we vote by who we blame,

And burn the past

To raise the dead.

The mob decides what you defend,

But changes targets

In the end.

We clap for those we fear to fight,

Then mock the ones

Who stand too bright.

We do not speak — we scan for cues,

Then fold our views

To fit their use.

No tyrant here, no chain, no gate —

Just peer-enforced

Synthetic fate.

You call it love,

But play a part.

You touch like lines

You learned from screens.

Your bond is built on terms and flags,

And failure hides

Behind routines.

You trade connection for a script,

Then wonder why

It doesn't grip.

Desire’s now a branded cause,

A virtue worn between the sheets.

You feel, but only what aligns

With roles approved

By trending tweets.

And when you break the silent pact,

You're exiled

For the traits you lacked.

You don’t confess — you curate pain,

Then barter grief

For moral gain.

You kiss with caution, love with proof,

And call it growth

To stay aloof.

Each wound must be correctly spun,

Each scar displayed,

But only one.

They told you work would make you free,

Then priced your value in despair.

Now effort bends beneath belief,

And struggle

Gets a louder chair.

You beg for bread and curse the hands

Who earn too much

To match demands.

They taught you wealth must prove a crime,

That having more

Requires a lie.

Now fairness means we all must sink,

And starving

Proves you’re more alive.

They call it just — but let you starve,

Then sell you shame

To fill the jar.

You chase a check through moral loops,

Your silence paid

To not offend.

You chant the lines your boss repeats,

Then post your worth

Through filtered lens.

The rich don't speak — they echo safe.

Compliance is

The new escape.

Your job depends on stated faith,

Not skill or truth

Or earned command.

Each office builds a padded cage

With smiling lies

And branded hands.

They do not care what’s real or right —

Just that you kneel

Without a fight.

And now your inbox shouts a creed,

Your contract cites

What you must need.

You sign away your mind for peace,

Then sell your soul

To meet their lease.

No thought survives that doesn’t blend.

And all promotions

Go to trend.

The crowd enforces what it fears,

Then calls it law

Or civil weight.

But underneath the virtue buzz,

It’s tribal power

Masquerade.

One speaks — the rest pretend to hear,

Then nod until

They disappear.

They gave you rights that bend with tone,

Then wrote them out

With “just this once.”

They handed fear the gavel’s robe,

And let the press

Decide the punch.

Now silence is an act of war,

And wrong is just

A vote before.

There is no state that runs this deep.

No rule that binds you half this tight.

The chains are made of social breath,

The courtroom built

From silent might.

You watch them cage the ones who burn,

Then warn yourself

To never turn.

And when the laws begin to speak

In tones you used

To fake the peace —

You'll understand the final step:

When rights dissolve

And rituals lease.

You’ll sign the form, accept the brand,

Then live a life

You never planned.

Because the virus isn’t loud —

It doesn’t march,

Or seize the mic.

It whispers rules in every friend,

And rides your fear

Like iron spikes.

You even socialize alone —

That’s how you know

It's carved in bone.