When someone you care about has been hurt by injustice,
You speak of justice—but what did he do?
I don't even know if what was said is true.
You judge him by the actions of those he loves,
measure his worth by the "mistakes" they make.
So let me ask: who is truly the fake?
How do you spot a snake?
Tell me, why do you forsake?
You speak of justice—but what does this help?
You call for justice—but who's really blind?
The truth is buried in the prejudice you find.
To the people who judged: you don't deserve to see
the kindness, the compassion, the heart of gold inside him.
To the people who choose violence:
I ask, what do you truly win?
YOU ARE READING
Through hell and back
PoetryThere's a tingling in my fingers. Humming in my head. a thousand ideas just waiting to be read. the page is blank, and the possibilities are endless. - Queen_of_Dead118 Hi! and welcome to my poetry book. First I'd like to dedicate this book to som...
