By: Psudo

It's a strange pain,

this being insane

and I'm utterly confused

how what I believe

and what you persieve

makes me out to be used

The days I explain

the source of the drain

to my creativity

are the days you say

my will's gone away

and 'the man' controls my needs

the name calling starts

soon logic departs

yet I'm the the one from the mold

your rash actions show

you really don't know

the one who's really controlled

who is the enslaved,

the one so depraved

his actions are not his own

when I don't back down

from your roaring crowd

like-minded, united drones

I know what I say

in the strongest way.

which of this mad mob so stands?

stands up for their right

speaks strongly despite

attacks of squeltching bands?

'The man,' you say,

taught me this way

to stand for unchallenged belief

If I stand alone

against roaring scorn

which of us is freedom's thief

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