Best Unjust Poems
In the world UNCERTAIN
Where people hardly withstand
One another
Walk around, crowns high
And carrying bird-brains
In their hands, whereas
SOME,
Trying to fathom
And go deep into the ocean of
Words unsaid and feelings untouched
Alas! THEY are one, called witless
This unjust world around.
To those who should have heard my plea—
I write not bitter, but silently.
In shadows where the messages fade,
I found myself in silence laid.
It started with a hopeful thread,
A truth that whispered, softly said,
To stir the waters, call a friend—
But stillness echoed to no end.
No ripples came, no words replied,
Just empty space where trust had died.
“You need not come,” the silence spoke,
A quiet cut, a broken cloak.
A classroom once alive with song,
Where voices small would all belong,
Was handed off without a sign—
No farewell note, no last line.
I vanished in the digital night,
Replaced by names that felt not right.
No hand to hold, no final face,
Just absence carved in empty space.
Is this the way to lead the way?
With shadows deep and words that stray?
You teach respect but do not show—
Where did your empathy go?
You sever ties without a thought,
Ignoring wounds your cuts have wrought.
Is power all you seek to claim,
Or listening with heart aflame?
I am a teacher, flesh and bone,
With dreams and fears, not made of stone.
I pay my dues, I stand my ground,
Though silence tries to keep me bound.
But silence wins not here, not now,
Nor fear, nor cold, nor hidden vow.
My voice will rise beyond your walls—
A light that shines when darkness falls.
My final lesson, softly told,
In halls of light, both bright and bold,
Where children learn and spirits soar—
That’s why I teach, forevermore.
Though health now calls me to retreat,
And closure hides in shadows sweet,
I hold within what none can take—
My truth, my heart, no one can break.
—And that will be my lasting flame,
A whispered name beyond the shame.
of unjust harvest
when will
the grim reaper
tire
being cast murderer
how long will
stopped stalked beings
be blown away
like crows in forbidden fields
does not war yield
enough to be reaped
or
will strange fruits
forever to be plucked
by the harvesters of hate
We Must Make Good Use of Our Riches
LK 16:1-13
Then he also said to his disciples"A rich man had a steward who was reported to him for squandering his property.
He summoned him and said, 'What is this I hear about you?
Prepare a full account of your stewardship, because you can no longer be my steward.
' The steward said to himself,
'What shall I do, now that my master is taking the position of steward away from me?
I am not strong enough to dig and I am ashamed to beg. I know what I shall do so that, when I am removed from the stewardship, they may welcome me into their homes.'
He called in his master's debtors one by one. To the first he said, 'How much do you owe my master?'
He replied, 'One hundred measures of olive oil.' He said to him
'Here is your promissory note. Sit down and quickly write one for fifty.'
And the master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently...
The person who is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones;
the person who is dishonest in very small matters is also dishonest in great ones.
No servant can serve two masters.
He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon." (Taken from LK 16:1-6, 8, 10, 13)
I’m calling you out!
Many ‘came and went,’ but after George Floyd, I thought it was done;
Now, two more possibly got hanged, and another, shot with a gun.
‘Black disrespect’ is real! In the midst of protesting over the same;
These ‘white’ cops perpetrated this undeniably racist act once again.
I couldn’t believe it; their actions were, brazen, brash and so blatant;
What about the ‘moot’ “Protect and Serve,” despicable public servant.
What is this grievous genocidal trend – when will this nightmare end?
How long will we be brutally broken – until there’s nothing left to mend?
Imagine; I quote; “You scared me man, because you were sleeping in the car;”
As an appropriate and valid reason or excuse; that is fetched way too far.
The suspect is drunk; scuffled with the cops and then fled from them terrified;
Then, the ‘scared’ cops shot Rayshard Brooks; and this deadly act they justified.
Every good citizen; as well as, criminals have Rights, under the Constitution;
Unfortunately, ‘Blacks’ are not rendered those rights; and it’s no new revelation.
So, when!?! When will the infringement on our rights be rectified, with equity?
Whom!?! Who will be bold enough to willfully act and change this travesty?
End
By: Dion Penville
The Just for the Unjust
BIBLE MEDITATION:
"For Christ also died for sins once for all, the Just for the unjust, so that He might bring us to God ..." 1 Peter 3:18
DEVOTIONAL THOUGHT:
A Roman soldier walked down a narrow corridor in a Roman prison. He held the torch up, and back in the shadows was a man. The guard with his key opened the door and said, "Barabbas, get up and come with me." Barabbas began to plead, "No, wait, don't take me! Have mercy!" The Roman soldier said, "You're not going to die; there's somebody else who's going to die in your place. Come here. Look over on that hill. That's the cross we made for you. But there's someone else on it. He has taken your place."
In what happened to Barabbas, God arranged a perfect picture of substitution -- the just dying for the unjust that He might bring us to Himself.
ACTION POINT:
Take time today to tell the Lord Jesus Christ how much you love Him and how grateful you are that He stepped out of glory and became obedient unto death--even the death of the Cross--for your sake and mine.
Hostility and hatred are daily, wrongly, sustained and fed.
Unjust and unfair ones create chaotic laws and discrimination.
Multitudes of people ignorantly choose to live from their egos.
Afghanistan armies war to harm others, even their brothers .
Nations of violence make or take our innocent beds.
Individuals daily pray for a comforting spiritual clue
Throughout life, despite erratic dances with fear, and
Yield we would gladly do if love became the rule.
No need for a clock when time means nothing
Hours,Days,Weeks the lengths are all the same on Robin Island
the only measurement is injustice which has been a while
these 4 walls have seen me age , my name Mandela
My walls are my home , but they are there to keep me in
My view is pleasing to the eye yet will not set me free
My crime to speak of freedom , my name Aung San Suu Kyi
My walls are made of wire I'm on a Caribbean isle and over look a bay
My days are filled with cruelty and silence there's no escape for me
yet I can remember omaba say he would set me free
I go by many names but freedom stolen fits today .
comp entry 22022016
Be happy, we must, for those who cannot
The world is cruel, unjust, but that’s the phenomenon
Of life itself, inequality of happiness with self
Concentrated in the hands of less
Who fail to realize its value; disregard their privilege
Privilege to feel sorrow
For one to know sorrow, joy too was once known
A plea to all who feel innate pain
You are burdened with the ability and responsibility to be happy
If not for yourself , then for the girl who was deprived of an education,
The man who was enslaved because of his hue,
The child who was and is at the bottom of the food-chain
For being happy is being kind
Being happy is doing your righteous duty
16 August 2021
A BRIAN STRAND 2 to 14 line Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Loving an Unjust Man-
how do you love him
with heart of God in your soul
and forgiveness
1/5/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit:
1 Peter 3:18 KJV
Christ has done the hard work
Being a sacrifice for
The just died for the unjust.
We are all the unjust until
Through Christ we die to the flesh.
That He might bring one to God
Quickened by the Spirit.
In renewing of the mind and heart.
That we might dwell in His presence
In these times to be molded and purified.
New desire not of the outward appearance
But of the transformation of the unseen
spiritual awakenings within one.
Clinging unto His word
To receive understanding of
This world around us and
Through Christ the guidance
Of what He died for to place within one.
Sadly ,the more one reads
The more one will see mankind
Has not changed much.
It's the same mostly today as then.
For only through the quickened Spirit.
Shall Christ receive glory for the unjust.
But after that the kindness and love of God our Saviour toward man appeared, not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost; which he shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour; that being justified by his grace, we should be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life.
Titus 3:4?-?7 KJV
The eyes are wet, the boss is curry,
Today is tis, tomorrow is tat
O' pay in tis, I buy in tat
The eyes are wet, the boss is curry
Forty million needs, the boss with meat,
Tunameza mate in need, ooh! This is heat
The eyes are wet, the boss is curry
What shall I do, the boss a quiz
Nifanye nini sasa, the boss quests.
The eyes are wet, the boss is curry,
Wooi! Wooi! Wooi! Where we go
Bye! Bye! Bye! Since long ago
The eyes are wet, the boss is curry
Guru up loot, tinga high on foot
Uto up a hoot, tis tat not gut
The eyes are wet, the boss is curry,
Wooi! Wooi! Wooi, where is Marehemu?
Wooi! Wooi! Wooi! Life shot in May
The eyes are wet, the boss is curry
Bondeuro is missing, Integrity too a miss
Nifanye nini sasa? No voice but hiss
The eyes are wet, the boss is curry,
Wooi! Wooi! Wooi! North Eastern massacre
Wooi! Wooi! Wooi! , One forty-seven is gone
I turn in my bed and there you are,
You have never left my side or tore my patched up heart,
And yet I can’t help but wish you were someone else.
That someone that left me behind.
That someone that my friends and family warned me to leave alone,
They saw the devil and demon in him; I saw the god and angel in him,
But you lay by my side staring at me in delight; I smile back a forged smile
Why can’t you be him? I ask myself.
He was an angelic devil, you are a soothing angel.
The feelings I had and still have for him are honest, angry and adoring.
The feelings I have for you are complicated, unsure and uneasy.
Do not mistake me my love, I love you I do, but there is a hole in our love that was not
there with him.
Our love to me is translucent; something’s cannot be seen and are uncertain.
With him our love was transparent; everything was laid out in front of me for me to see and
taste.
I am sorry my love, you adore me and treat me like some kind of goddess but I do not
deserve your love or devotion.
My heart it still young and fickle I love too many, you love the wrong person
I am truely sorry my dear sweetness.
your love for me is unjust.
You looking towards the sky hoping to get something?
Aigbofa lanwoke, ifakan kosi ni paara.
Why and how would you do that when you're not Abraham,
Unto him whose life was tested to be the father of all nations?
Could you stand such test with no hope for better thing?
Try it and you see your life be better,
Neither can the mother soil do same.
In the sacks she uses to exist gold coast our hopes are pack to other nations.
What's our hopes and where lies our lives?
Even the grave can't question her judgment,
Lest it dies the second death before the judgment of Messiah.
Iku npalosan onpaloru,
The poor daily cry and the rich grow in their desire.
Our lads are the weapons of the merchant crew
While their children are being nurture for political sits.
The beautiful ones are yet to be born and the ugly are failing to die.
This is the stream of our daily cry.
Haven't lost focus the use of hijab is the major talk in town
That our schools are forced to be closed down.
All in pretence of the right to religion and association,
Neglecting that not all right is absolute for the purpose of peace of the nation.
Look into my eyes and tell me that my skull has gone below my ankle.
And I will tell you that a trial of putting on this right cant be handle.
Think oh think my dear,
Cos the mother soil needs us more for it to be clear.
Better than being the generation of Cain for the power that rest in us.
©Olorode Olorunleke Samuel.
This is one of the poems from my new novel "DoJez's Unjust"
"A feeling phased by color.
A talent despised by others.
Man flawed with "Brothas?"
A time that's stormed with thunder.
The pale insisted manner.
Ignorance accusing the matter.
Will man question this matter?
Or just say it doesn't matter?
Simplicity raged with infurity.
Complexity disturbing purity.
Racism is crimson to the ability,
The ability to confide humanity.
But yet, it's still here."