poems about justice

First World Problems

Ugh, I can’t believe I have
To take my car in again,
Which means I’ll miss my
Haircut appointment which
Is always so hard to schedule,
Such a pain. Maybe I can stop
By the coffee place…
Oh, I forgot, of course,
They’re closed for remodeling,
Now I have to go to the
Place down the street that
Doesn’t have Wi-Fi,
Or my favorite drink, great.
I can’t function this way,
Guess we can’t all be lucky.

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This Very Moment

This very moment,
If we choose to,
We can agree to
Love one another and
Come together to build
A world of kindness and
Compassion, a place
We can proudly leave to
Our collective children.

I Stay at Home

Brother goes off to school
While I stay at home
Tending to the boiling pot
On the stove, scrubbing the
Floor to a fine shine,
Cleaning the streaks off the windows,
Dreaming of being in a classroom
Traveling to colorful new worlds.

Vortex

Sitting by himself
In a staid office,
Accompanied by all
The memories that
Have hardened him
Beyond reason,
A gnarled knot of
Repressed pain issuing
Decisions that routinely
Damage human beings,
A violent vortex
Nothing escapes.

Thanks for Explaining

Thanks for explaining
That to me, it was
Far too complicated for
Someone of my gender to
Understand. I’m so glad I
Have someone like you to
Tell me what everything means,
Especially considering that
I have no brain of my own to
Process such things and
Hate having to
Think for myself since I
Only have a doctorate.

Ambulance

They’ve been wondering when
It would be them and it has
Finally occurred with a
Ferocity they could not
Imagine no matter how many of
Their friends told them
About it, the leveling of
Life, limb, love, in one
Deafening, punishing blow;
A child sits in an ambulance.

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.

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.