It is not a person and it surly is not a thing.
Although, one way or another it has seen and touched you.
Grabbing its tools it lurks beneath our feet, behind the walls and watches us every week.
It climbs in your head and molds your mind to what is "right".
Editing you, like the wall page seen on your screen that you find on some sight.
It controls you with its hand.
To firm of a grip to take back command.
It tells you to make a misunderstood person cry all the way home.
"it" is a coward and needs to be locked in the past and left on its own.
It rampages around the world to ruin lives, all for fun!
You are it's puppet, acting at night and in the sun.
With a smile on its face it sets a bar.
All who can't reach it is grouped and placed in an isolated jar.
Like some side show, placing all those effected on the run!
it.... has gone to far!
Please look at the things its done!
Rise up, not because it's what I said.
Do it for those tortured by it, because they cant even go to bed.
"it" is the "right society", a thought.
And we let it in command.
Cut those ties and let the oppressed stand.
Guide that inspired this poem: