poems about society

His Town

His town isn’t like
It used to be,
Main street was always
Bustling with people
Living their lives,
Sharing some conversation
About the weather or something
Going on at the mine.
He walks down tattered streets,
Boarded windows announcing
The memory of former tenants,
An occasional dour face averting
His gaze, nothing to do
Down here anymore and
Nobody who cares about any of it.
Jaw clenching, he vows to force
Someone to listen by voting for
The same people who did this.

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You Have No Idea

You have no idea
What my life is like
If you’ve never been
Called a derogatory name,
Denied a loan,
Been turned away
From renting a home,
Had your integrity or
Intelligence questioned,
Watched some person
Cross the street because
They see you coming,
Been harassed by people
In positions of authority,
Told you’re less than human,
Kept as property to
Make other people money,
Just because of
The color of your skin.

Her Daughter

She stares at her daughter,
The same one who was filled
With joy and promise just
A year ago, the one who
Dutifully did everything
She was asked and never caused
A problem, a ready smile
Brightening the world around her.

She learns that her daughter
Lives in a tent
With an abusive man who
Has impregnated her.
Inside, she rages with shame,
The gall of this child,
Homeless, alcoholic, ungrateful,
Making her look bad.

Can’t Find Qualified Workers

Countless prosperous companies
Lamenting that they can’t find
Qualified workers,
Not that there aren’t
Thousands of people applying
Who would eagerly and gratefully
Work for them, starting immediately,
It’s just that leadership
No longer cares to spend
The money to train their employees,
Positions go unfilled,
Mountains of profits accumulate as
Existing workers shoulder the burden.

Swarms

Swarms of zealous
Dark figures fan out
Across the city,
There’s a mission
To be accomplished here,
Must protect all that
Is sacred, rid our
Shores of this horrid
Menace, return back
To the days when we
Only turned on
Each other.

It Can Never Happen Here

That almost imperceptible
Difference in the air,
When we’re not quite sure
The seasons are changing
But some primeval instinct
Is telling us
That things are not quite
As they should be, that
Some new force is
Insinuating itself,
A historical whisper,
We reassure ourselves
It can never happen here.

Top of the Food Chain

Everything was just grand
For the Johnson family
When they were swimming
In money, living in the
Right neighborhood,
Associating with the
Toniest socialites,
Disparaging people
Who weren’t as fortunate,
And just enjoying the
Perks of being at
The top of the food chain.
All that changed when
Circumstances beyond
Anyone’s control emptied
Their pockets, leaving them
Destitute and looked down upon
By their former best friends.

Exposed

He dares speak out against
Undeniable injustice and
The machine shrieks wildly,
Facing its own reflection,
Convulsing at the realization
That it has been exposed,
Dreading the possibility of
Having to pay for what its done.
An alert is sounded,
The minions rise,
A massive smoke screen appears,
Fealty to symbols instead of people,
A diversion to avoid talking
About sordid reality.

Awful Agenda

Unable to feel for
Anyone but himself,
He doubles down on
The only thing he knows:
Putting others down
In order to garner support
For his transparently
Awful agenda,
Cruelty for its own sake,
Pandering to the
Darkest impulses of
His damaged followers.