Injustice Of Socialism Poem by Mohammad Yousef

By Mohammad A. Yousef

In the heart of a crowded city,
where dreams rise and fall,
there's a whisper of hope,
and a shout of despair,
the weight of a system
that promised to lift all.

They spoke of sharing,
of unity and care,
but in the shadows,
the truth was hidden,
like a thief in the night.

Hands that once reached out
to help each other,
now clenched tight,
holding onto scraps,
while the leaders feasted
at tables set for kings.

A child dreams of a toy,
a student craves a book,
but the shelves are bare,
the toys are lost,
in a world where too many
are told to wait.

Injustice wears a mask,
smiling wide,
as it walks among the people,
pretending to be fair,
but it knows the game,
the rules it made,
a cycle of control,
that spins and spins,
leaving many behind.

The workers toil,
their backs bent low,
for promises of tomorrow,
that never seem to come.
They sweat in the fields,
they walk the long roads,
but the fruits of their labor
are taken away,
like leaves in autumn,
blown by the wind.

Voices rise in anger,
echoing through the streets,
demanding change,
demanding a chance,
to breathe, to thrive,
to dream once more.

But change is slow,
like a river in drought,
and the call for justice
gets tangled in the weeds,
finding it hard to grow,
finding it hard to see
the light of day.

So here we stand,
in a land of mixed hopes,
where the promise of fairness
turns to dust in the air,
and the dream of belonging
is a fragile thread,
woven with care,
yet so easily frayed.

Let us not forget,
what we are fighting for,
the right to be heard,
the right to choose,
to build a life
on our own terms,
to stand tall
in the face of injustice,
and reclaim the dreams
that were taken away.

In this dance of life,
we seek to find balance,
to lift each other up,
to build a world
where fairness is real,
not just a word,
but a living promise,
where every hand is welcome,
and every heart is free.