INJUSTICE

A poem

INJUSTICE

 

This dancing of life

On the auburn stage of misery

Wearing a jersey that is unfitting

 

Its twists and turns peppers my pains

That cause indelible pinstripes of wounds

On my heart that throbbed in a pool of hopes

 

Moments move without ticking on my silence

In the court of conscience I argue

For four seconds to the judge Almighty

 

Why am I born as a poor?

Why am I living as a poor?

Why cant I come out of it?

 

We have met earlier so many times

He doctored up the decree very soon

Through his silence as usual…

 

I couldn’t fathom anything

I packed up my life in despair..

And went out of the court

 

To the same prison of misery and poverty

Unguarded by police or rifles

The poster at the entrance reminded..

YOU CAN NOT HAVE A BAIL AGAIN

 

Reviews

[Sweets]

"On my heart that throbbed in a pool of hopes" I loved the imagery you used in here :)
Such a good poem :)!
100/100!

[Marie Anzalone]

There is poverty of situation, poverty of mind, and poverty of spirit. All three are grievous injuries to humanity. To claim, as many do, that poverty of finances is only a mental state is to ignore the lives of indentured servitude that too many of our brethren lead. Without soundness of resources, there is no spiritual growth. It is a simple concept- that of human dignity- that lawmakers debate endlessly without ever tackling directly. A pity, that. For too many human stories are left forever annotated or untold due to lack of a meal and a bed. You capture that frustration well in your poem.

[Dream Weaver]

There are many injustices in this world.
Being poor is one of them but not the
most important of all injustices. You can
search the soul and see that there is much
worse instances…A very good pondering
of a write.