poems about justice

Improving Education

Starve the public schools
By refusing to
Pay taxes.

Declare that teachers
And schools are
Broken.

Under the guise
Of school choice,
Dismantle the system.

Pass bills so public money
Can be spent on private,
Religious, or home education.

Help private corporations
Get their slice of
The pie.

Only support education
That furthers your
Political goals.

Issue proclamations
About how you’re
Improving education.

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

Certain Things

Helen volunteers at a
Local food pantry that
Helps people with far less
Than she has, though she
Can remember when she too
Had very little of anything.

She’s mostly chipper as
She greets the people who
Come in to ask for some
Kind of help, although
She’s particularly acerbic
About this one woman.

It seems this lowlife drives
Up to the building in
A fancy car, which rubs Helen
The wrong way, after all,
Poor people aren’t allowed
To do certain things.

The woman with the car
Never says a word, nobody
Knows her story, where she
Came from, what she had to
Overcome to get to this point,
And why she asks for assistance.

His Business

He owns a thriving company
Which affords him a lifestyle
He never could have imagined
As a child, no one in his family
Had succeeded like this before.

When he attends meetings with
Fellow business owners he
Often overhears conversations
About cutting employee pay,
Hours, benefits, training.

He emphatically disagrees
With this cold approach,
Opting instead to treat his
Workers as part of the family,
People to be esteemed.

His business is one of
Caring and kindness,
Where people are valued.
Sure, he makes money,
But not at someone’s expense.

Insolent

The weight of
A thousand slights,
Cruel treatment,
Marginalization,
Weigh upon their
Tattered shoulders.
Any vestiges of
Dignity stamped out
Without the slightest
Shred of compassion,
Constant, crushing
Scorn and belittlement.
When they finally
Rise up, it’s pointed
Out how out of control
They are, a tornado
Calling a breeze insolent.

Enclave

A ponderously large vehicle
With darkened windows
Is ushered through
Heavy metal gates by
A dutiful sentry hired
To protect this particular
Walled enclave of wealth
Anchored in a sea of misfortune.
Pulling up to the outlandishly
Large mansion bursting with
All the amenities, the family
Gets out, walks past the guard
Posted outside, and disappears
Behind an ornate, heavy door
Built to keep the dregs out.

At Their Feet

They identify
Each other by their
Unfeeling eyes,
Rigid faces,
Infected smiles.
They form groups that
Attract others
Like them who are
Infirm inside and
Can only feel momentary
Relief by forcing
Their dogma on
Every living creature,
And it still is
Never enough to
Fill the hole,
Even when the entire
Planet is left
Gasping at their feet.

Free Speech

He’s surprised and
More than a little
Offended when it’s
Pointed out that he
Has said something
Incredibly rude to
The young woman
Seated next to him.

So it also goes with
Many things he says
To myriad people in
Multiple contexts,
Spreading horribleness
With impunity under
The pretense of
Free speech.

A Life of Kindness

They’ll have you believe
That it’s undesirable
To be nice, compassionate,
But, as has been shown
Time after time,
What really counts is
How you treat others—
Whether you are able
To heal yourself enough
To empathize with
Someone else’s plight
And help them even when
You don’t have to,
The difference between
Surviving and blossoming,
A life of kindness.

Head of the Table

The best he can do,
Lash out at people who
Never had the opportunities
He did, who never did
Anything but make his meals,
Shine his shoes,
Clean his toilet.
Out of all the choices
Set before him,
He settles on writing
Things to hurt them,
To secure his place
At the head of the table,
And make sure the
Would be usurpers
Don’t get any ideas.