poems about society

Protecting

Entrusted with the
Power of the pen,
He routinely, passionately
Persecutes the poor and
Disenfranchised, focusing
With white-hot, laser-like
Intensity on the innate
Shortcomings of the indigent,
Emphatically insisting that
These things must be pointed out;
A sentinel of truth and justice
Conveniently overlooking the
Trespasses of the group
He identifies with,
Protecting the perpetrators.

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Debris

Avarice clouds
Judgment.
The innocent
Fall by the wayside.
A cloud of mendacity.
Piles of refuse and debris.
The remains of
Many before who
Succumbed to the whims of
Meager, broken minds.

Suppressed

A mundane street
Racked with fear.

Unfulfilled dreams
Hastily banished.

Superficial conversations
About nothing important.

Minimizing risk,
Averse to change.

Laughter suppressed,
Letting life happen to them.

Conventional

Deeply conventional,
Revering tradition and
Established practices.

Unconsciously submissive,
Loathing authority but
Following strongmen.

Acutely unimaginative,
Copying rather than
Creating anew.

Impulsively aggressive,
Quick to anger
When challenged.

Fiercely disliking
Anyone who isn’t
The same.

Profoundly hypocritical,
Living in compartments of
Contradictions and myopia.

Intensely dogmatic,
Unwilling to change,
Immune to reason.

Their Place

At the same time
He discriminates
Against others,
He reasserts his
Belief that he
Is being
Discriminated against
And that his already
Dominant group
Should stand up
For itself against
The multihued infidels
Who are uppity
Enough to question
Their place.

He Sleeps Well

He sleeps well
At night knowing
That rivers of
Money are flowing
Into his already
Bloated coffers
While his workers
Struggle with
Whether they should
Pay the electric bill
Or put food on
The table.

Ingrates

He sits livid
In his armchair,
Staring at the TV,
Where people are
In the streets,
Holding signs,
Chanting slogans that make
No sense to him.

He mutters something
About ingrates
With no right to
Protest against a
Good man just doing
His job, and what about
What those people do
To one another.

Economics

They’ll fight
Tooth and nail
To give tax breaks
To their cronies –
The one percent –
Who already own
Most of everything
But still demand more.
They won’t do a
Thing to help
The real people
Doing the actual work,
Deluge up economics.

Playground

Well-scrubbed children,
In the latest fashions,
Play without a care,
Eagerly returning to
Their desks to learn about
All the wonders the
World offers them.

Children in hand-me-downs
Selected from a pile
In the corner of the room,
Run around in a bare
Playground, going back
Inside to share
Outdated books.