(Wrap it in a flag, and no one sees the cage.)
Write. Laugh. Hope.
They called it freedom.
You called it fear.
They called it loyalty.
You called it survival.
They called it patriotism.
But you’ve seen what they do to the people who ask questions.
Wave the flag.
Stand still.
Salute.
Obey.
And whatever you do—don’t look too close.
You might notice the bars are red, white, and blue.
Because in this country,
the louder you cheer, the less you’re allowed to see.
Protest? You’re ungrateful.
Grieve? You’re weak.
Question? You’re a threat.
Stay silent? You’re complicit.
They built an empire
on stolen land, enslaved labor, and silenced truth.
Then told you it was the land of the free.
But here’s the trick:
Wrap oppression in a flag,
teach it a song,
and it’ll march itself.
They sold nationalism as identity.
Now we confuse indoctrination with pride.
You were taught to stand for the anthem
before you learned what it meant.
You were told to fight for a country
that never fought for you.
And still… you’re here.
Still speaking.
Still asking the questions that make the room go quiet.
Because someone has to.
Write. Laugh. Hope.
Because what the hell else is there?
