poems about justice

Shrinking Soap Bar

She’s noticed the constantly
Shrinking soap bar lately,
Becoming smaller and smaller,
Dissolving more quickly,
Carefully shaped to
Break in half sooner,
Infused with less fragrance.
For as long as she can
Remember, bars of soap
Were a certain size but,
At some point, it became
Acceptable for companies
To sell whatever they want,
Knowing they have a
Captive audience with
No other real options.

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Entry-Level Job

Carrying some trash bags
Out to the dumpster behind
The fast food restaurant,
She breathes the
Exhaust-infused air
And tries to avoid thinking
About the hundreds of
Meaningless chores
She’ll do during her shift
Before she goes to
Her other job
So her family can
Barely make ends meet.
On someone’s radio
At the drive-through,
A man talks about how it’s
Just an entry-level job.

She Raises Her Hand

She raises her hand
To answer a question,
A tattered book used
By many classes before
Her lays on her scarred
Desk in a room with
Peeling paint, torn floors,
Water-stained ceiling tiles.

Exclusive Club

He’s been incapable of
Accepting that
Times are changing and
That his exclusive club
Now lets in members
Who don’t look like him and,
He fears, will unravel
The whole scam.

Speak English

Supervising yet another
Renovation to her mansion,
She hears a worker
Utter some words in a
Foreign tongue and
Quickly admonishes him
To speak English, without
Any consideration for
A fellow human being’s
Plight or life experience,
Ignoring the glaring reality
That not everyone has parents
Who read and write in
Their own native language,
Let alone a new one,
But it’s much easier to
Chastise someone for not
Being able to speak one’s
Preferred patter than
It is to understand
Their story.

A Place of Kindness

Their dead eyes
Reflect a dearth of
Self-love, which
Affects their ability
To care for anyone else,
Which, in turn, makes
It exceedingly difficult
To build a society where
People care for each other.
The good news is that
People can change,
And have demonstrated
Time after time that
It’s possible to live
From a place of kindness.

Collective Conscience

A group of people
Living in peace and harmony,
Supporting each other for
The common good.

One person emerges
Who craves a larger slice of
The pie for himself,
To fill a hole.

Balance interrupted,
Collaboration obstructed,
A test of their
Collective conscience.

The Myth of the Self-Made Man

The myth of the
Self-made man:
He rises from poverty and,
By sheer will,
Determination, and
Hard work becomes
Wildly successful,
All on his own.
The truth behind
The myth: The man
Was born into a
Society that allows
For success and provides
The governmental framework,
Social conditions,
Public services, and
Physical infrastructure
That permit someone
Like him to
Enjoy great fortune.
Another often-overlooked
Detail: The staggeringly
Monumental chance that the
Man is born in the right
Place and at the right time
To prosper.
Countless equally
Hard-working people don’t
Get the same breaks,
Don’t arrive at
The ideal time.
It could just as
Easily been him
Struggling for a lifetime.

Rushing to Get Ready

Rushing to get ready
For some lavish function;
She barks a few orders
At the woman who cooks
All the meals, cleans
The whole house,
Raises her children,
And has a life, too.