Social Justice Poetry

self-awareness poems

Late in the Game | A Social Justice Poem by Roy Pullam

Envy is the boulder
That blocks the road
To contentment
It is the jealousy
That harbors hate
It is the unforgiveness
That looks up and down
Finding no approval
Embracing prejudice
Shuffling the cards
In a way
That deals others out
Defines we and they
So narrowly
So definitely
That stereotypes
Become laws
When even a flood
Of love
Is damned by spite
I learned my bile
With the soak
In the hate sauce
Of the South
But having lived
Through so many rains
Having been washed
By tolerance and education
Having been forgiven
For slights
By better people than me
I have grown
To be ashamed
Of the small person
I was
But still know
There is still
Room to grow

Lake View | A Social Justice Poem by Langley Shazor

If I may be so bold
Allow me to speak candidly
I am at a loss as to what friends are
Anyone who has ever been in my inner circle
Has tried to sabotage my life
Hurt me
Or walked away and left me stranded
Is this the degree of what friendship means?
Is this the measure of what a friendship is?
Perhaps all friends are temporary
Existing only to fill a void in whatever state a person currently
There was a time when I was less than reputable
And only looked to serve my own interests
But even in that state
I could be counted on
I faltered, as we all do
I have let people down
Could you consider this my comeuppance?
You reap what you sow
And there is always a harvest
I must first ration the poor work I have done
Before I can feast on the fruits of good labor
All things in turn maybe?
As painful as this is
It all circles back to me
I want to blame all of you for your blatant disregard for my feelings
Knowing full well I have scorned others similarly
Thinking back on who I was
Contemplating on who I am
Determining who I want to be
It is clear that each of those phases requires growth
And there are always growing pains
So I must be the first to examine myself
Let my conduct be the example
That I may continue to sow goodness, peace, charity, love
One day, there will be nothing left of a poor harvest
The famine will have subsided
Generosity reciprocated
But until that time
I will sift through varying degrees of rotten
In hopes of finding a small piece of nourishment
The old will pass away
Leaving the new
Revealing better
We will be better