Grid - Assemblage 23

We live within a grid

Its boundaries well-defined

And woe to anyone

Who steps outside the lines

A fragile order kept

That struggles to contain

Any independent thought

That threatens their domain

A cage we built with our own hands

We were just following commands

A tragic tale that’s often told

A narrative tightly-controlled

The grid decides your path

The options you’re allowed

A distant hand deciding

Which rights you’re endowed

An eye to keep you safe

But if you carry on

A vengeful fist to keep you

Down where you belong

The lines can be redrawn

A Sword of Damocles

Hangs above the grid

To bring it to its knees

And when the blade comes down

And all the ruins burn

We’ll build the grid again

Because we never learn