Thank a “soldier”.

I oftentimes am told that, when I “enjoy my freedom”, I should “thank a soldier”.
I hear that, due to numerous men/women putting their lives on the line in the “Armed Forces”, I am “free”.
I beg to differ.
You see, while you were “fighting for my freedom”, I was in a cage.
I was fighting for my own freedom.
Literally.
There were no “insurgents”.
There were no “terrorists”.
There was a “judge”.
Numerous “judges”, in fact.
Several “prosecutors”.
Dozens and dozens of “Law Enforcement Officers”.
Doctors, psychologists and counselors, oh my!
“The War on Drugs”, they called it.
Then “The War on Terror”.
I was incarcerated well before the labels.
I was born in a prison.
A prison of constucts and ideas that were meant to be thought.
By all.
No exceptions.
You will either go to college, the military or “the workforce”.
Any deviation from these 3 options is treated with the utmost disgust.
If you do not “color inside of the lines” as far as neurological activity goes, you are ostracized.
Segregated.
Locked away with bars made of medical opinions and bricks made of legislature.
A “leper” of sorts.
What part of my intellect and rigidity is contagious?
Why am I “quarantined” away in the people warehouses?
How do I end up funneled into a “Just Us” system of for profit psychopathy of the most extreme nature at the age of 11 and CHEW MY OWN F***ING WAY OUT 20 years later with all these G.I. Joes who swear they “got my six”?
I will tell you why.
You follow commands.
The way my “German Shorthaired Pointer” follows commands.
You also know not to piss in the house, but sometimes, when you gotta go, you gotta go.
“…Foreign AND DOMESTIC…”

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