deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Box
It’s a paradox
you know
like, catch 22
damned if you don’t
damned if you do
It’s a riddle
a Gordian knot
a Mexican standoff
blindfolded
with only one shot
The game is rigged
a fix on a fix
Can’t play by the rules
when they wrote
the book on tricks
It is quite a puzzle
to proper ponder
to muse
Where all roads
are blocked
every which way
you choose
So find me a tunnel
or some secret
loophole
Build me a bridge
to escape
the fish bowl
Rats in a maze
or pawns
on a board
studied and played
bought and insured
They cover their bets
those few in control
loading the die
predicting its roll
Our cards are marked
then risk assessed
offered a part
convinced to invest
Following leaders
who look
fuck all like me
Sold on the lie
that all men are equal
in the land of the free
The class of the ruling
mate,
that ain’t you and I
you won’t sit
at their table
no matter
how hard you try
Sell them your soul
yeah, they’ll throw you
some scraps
smiling with gratitude
in the face of their slaps
as freedom goes hungry
feels the cold
of the night
Poverty, a shackle
a broke
and bankrupt boxer
free to starve
or free to fight
Knowledge a weapon
in the hands
of wrong men
When we get close
they move the goalposts
time and again
They hold all the cards
the keys to all doors
You need to
bring down the house
to even the score
The game of life
it is
what you make it
If you open your eyes
you’ll see
how they fake it
Now that feeling
my friend
won’t subside
you can’t shake it
The absolutes
of the box
don’t bend,
you gotta break it
you know
like, catch 22
damned if you don’t
damned if you do
It’s a riddle
a Gordian knot
a Mexican standoff
blindfolded
with only one shot
The game is rigged
a fix on a fix
Can’t play by the rules
when they wrote
the book on tricks
It is quite a puzzle
to proper ponder
to muse
Where all roads
are blocked
every which way
you choose
So find me a tunnel
or some secret
loophole
Build me a bridge
to escape
the fish bowl
Rats in a maze
or pawns
on a board
studied and played
bought and insured
They cover their bets
those few in control
loading the die
predicting its roll
Our cards are marked
then risk assessed
offered a part
convinced to invest
Following leaders
who look
fuck all like me
Sold on the lie
that all men are equal
in the land of the free
The class of the ruling
mate,
that ain’t you and I
you won’t sit
at their table
no matter
how hard you try
Sell them your soul
yeah, they’ll throw you
some scraps
smiling with gratitude
in the face of their slaps
as freedom goes hungry
feels the cold
of the night
Poverty, a shackle
a broke
and bankrupt boxer
free to starve
or free to fight
Knowledge a weapon
in the hands
of wrong men
When we get close
they move the goalposts
time and again
They hold all the cards
the keys to all doors
You need to
bring down the house
to even the score
The game of life
it is
what you make it
If you open your eyes
you’ll see
how they fake it
Now that feeling
my friend
won’t subside
you can’t shake it
The absolutes
of the box
don’t bend,
you gotta break it
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