Beads of freedom, melded into metal shackles.
Apply the heat, assemble the street,
Drive down the cul-de-sac to the masters' cackles.
Forge the bonds that bond the bonded to bondage by their feat.

Balzac's ballsack, a test of testes,
To the pioneers who wish to forge their own destinies.
The adherents, who fear the gear of adherence to societies,
Painted in the hue of faked contrarian proclivities.

The welder welds the cage, the wizard welds the page,
That summons the individual to lose the past participle.
Mass consumption can't fuel the presumptions that smelt the mind of the sage,
The original idea is the principal currency of the prince whose prints lie in principle.

Metal to metal, a covalent bond,
Learn to weld, to drain the pond.
Use your skills to banish shills with your wand,
Or heat the joints and join the conned.

It takes a voice to promote a choice,
Will your degree be used to limit degrees?
Employ smarts to tear down the arts and works of those like Joyce,
In favor of your own constraining remedies.

Learn how to weld, to create the geld,
Castration by science, engineering and works properly spelled.
There's profit to be made in keeping peers afraid, and masters upheld,
Families to feed, and interests of others to impede; bank accounts remain swelled.

The day will come when the smart look dumb,
Regret will follow the day they designed those bombs, and cameras and programs.
Their destinies will fuse with that of the sum,
Of discarded servants no longer needed for trigrams.

image created with help from Leonardo AI, poem without AI aid