poems about brokenness

Wealthy Country

This wealthy country
Heeding its bleakest impulses,
Depriving its most
Vulnerable of basic dignity,
Massaging plutocrats while
Ignoring people dying
In gutters from entirely
Preventable causes,
A mighty nation rendered
Ordinary by disregarding
Its higher ideals,
An experiment teetering
On the brink of failure
While a few abscond
With the spoils.

Get the Poetry Collection
Unconventional Being - Minimalist Poetry Book by Guy Farmer

Readers around the world have found pieces of themselves in these poems. Discover the collection.

Get Your Copy on Amazon

It Didn’t Happen

It really just boils
Down to fear,
Having done what they did
To human beings
Just to make a buck or
Feel better about their
Own wretched lives.
They’re terrified of
The same thing being
Done to them, the
Fury of retribution.
Instead of atoning,
They pretend it didn’t happen,
Desperately struggling
To hold back
The searing inferno.

The Result

She’s convinced herself
That the years of hearing
She didn’t matter had no
Effect on her when absolutely
Every single thing she does,
And has done for the past
Many years, to destroy herself
Is the result of a
Callous insult,
Contemptuous look,
Dismissive shrug.

Honed

He looks straight
At the camera, all
Bravado and confidence,
And blathers on about
Some fake plan that will,
As usual, damage
Vulnerable people,
Definitely not help them,
His swagger finely honed by
Years of not having to
Think of others while
Enjoying the fruits of
Contemptible rapacity.

The Next Victory

Unwilling to hear
Anything that doesn’t
Conform to their
Intransigent views,
A world full of fear,
Out to get them,
Deprive them of
The next victory
Over opponents who would
Make them lose control.

Repercussions

At a certain age,
He found out that
One of the benefits of
Living in a free society
Was being able to express
His views about absolutely
Any subject, regardless of
Whether he knew what he was
Talking about or was aware
In any way of the unpleasant
Repercussions of his beliefs,
Whether they would ravage
The very freedom he professed
To love so much or relegate
Certain people to second-class
Status, he really could not
Have cared less, all he truly
Was ever concerned about was
Getting back at someone.

Continue

There’s no epiphany here,
No emergence of conscience
Where they realize that
What they’re doing is
Unequivocally reprehensible,
Or that some kind of
Immediate change is imperative,
All that seems to matter is
Covering their tracks,
Concocting some ridiculous story,
Lying to protect each other
So they can continue doing
What they’ve always
Gotten away with.

Glorious Dream

He has a glorious dream
About a perfect world
Free from the stifling
Tyranny of government,
Where corporations can
Do whatever they want,
And some magic force
Takes care of everybody
Except, of course, for
The poor and most others.

Absence of Shame

It’s on video,
The story of
How things have
Always been,
Out in the open.
Recoiling in horror,
They hate that they’ve
Been discovered,
Not a drop of
Remorse or
Self-reflection,
Total absence of shame.