This is a poem by Wendell Berry.  Sorry  I don’t know the title.

You will be walking some night 

in the comfortable dark of your yard

and suddenly a great light will shine

round about you, and behind you

will be a wall you never saw before.

It will be clear to you suddenly

that you were about to escape,

and that you are guilty: you misread

the complex instructions, you are not

a member, you lost your card

or never had one. And you will know

that they have been there all along,

their eyes on your letters and books,

their hands in your pockets,

their ears wired to your bed.

Though you have done nothing shameful,

they will want you to be ashamed.

They will want you to kneel and weep

and say you should have been like them.

And once you say you are ashamed,

reading the page they hold out to you,

then such light as you have made

in your history will leave you.

They will no longer need to pursue you.

You will pursue them, begging forgiveness.

They will not forgive you.

There is no power against them.

It is only candor that is aloof from them,

only an inward clarity, unashamed,

that they cannot reach. Be ready.

When their light has picked you out

and their questions are asked, say to them:

“I am not ashamed.” A sure horizon

will come around you. The heron will begin his

evening flight from the hilltop.

And now my own poem:

CIVIL INSECURITY

One day refuse to align anything

            let your cat help with this.

Replace blanks with blocks or blots, or strikeovers.

    Do not answer to your name in public.

Address all others as “you ninny”.

Refuse to “boot up” anything, except the coffee machine.

        Share coffee with only your cat. Share the cream.

Make only right turns, pretend there are no wrong turns.

     Insist adamantly that you are always-----wrong.

Start a Dick Cheney Fan Club,

though under a different name… suggest “ninny” or “Dicky boy”.

     Solicit members at the coffee house of choice.

           Make your cat honorary vice-president.

                  Refuse to use all pronouns--- name all things.

Give your cat a new name, note that it makes very little difference.

Warn everyone you meet to fear the “others”.

Highlight every line you read in a library book.

      Type everything in Number Lock only.

            Give every fear a distinct German-sounding polysyllabic name,

      and ask others if they share the disorder.

Create a Recovery (or Discovery) Group for the disorder.

Solicit members at the sushi bar of choice.

Enter a crowded elevator and hit the button for every floor,

       and do not get out, or----- get out and hop in again immediately.

Tell the others that you live on the 13th floor,

           ignore the rude reactions of those around you.

Note that up or down makes little difference.

Tell the others that there is nothing to fear in numbers,

             and even if there is no 13th floor named,

                     each day millions of people are on it.

Declare that you refuse to pretend anymore,

             as part of this silent conspiracy.

                   Aggressively defend your right to end sentences with the phrase “on it.”

Dissolve (or merge) the Recovery Group and the growing Fan Club.

Form a new Recovery Group for ex-conspirators, the “others”,

            and those members who cannot let go of …… Name it with a pronoun.