Inequality: Their Perspective

In dark corners, the shadows of pain crawl, As hungry voices whisper - faint and small Too parched to help themselves No one to share their smiles, if any at all. A gentle drizzle cloaks the streets in a haze, Shadows drift by, wrapped in a sombre gaze The rain weeps softly; skies of ash remain Passing figures blur in a ghostly chain. A rusted coin, a hope that slips away, In poverty’s embrace, we kneel and pray. A rain inside brews a storm Despite the sun shining on the outside, Ragged clothes. Cold eyes. Homes war-torn. Faceless expressions are worn. Hunger is born. Colourless rainbows paint the clouds grey Faint silhouettes dissolve in the rain The wealthy like us pass them with a loud silence No words are exchanged, yet we see their pain. They sometimes see fleeting glows from ecstasy’s flame: Glows of happiness, love and ambitious aims? Yes, But they flicker, then vanish, lost to a hurricane It is all still the same. Their arms are tired Yet they try rowing towards the shore With a rusty boat And a broken oar Tears that they hide, scowls that reside Such that when they turn their eyes to one side Their pain is on one side, and the world is on the other side Separated by carcasses of humanity that died Monotonous winds play music so hollow They wear broken masks that hide the frowns they swallow Dreams once aglow with aspirations and goals Are snuffed out by the hopeless seeds the world sows. Faint silhouettes walk past daily, pockets full of gold and grace With bellies satisfied and eyes shining with joy They notice the wealth and successes we chase: Pointless, meaningless, a never-ending race. So, take a moment to reflect On the lives we overlook, the souls we neglect Because in humanity’s eyes, True wealth is not found on the outside – it is based on how many hearts we mend And how many hands we extend.