From Where I Stand

The world has shifted, jagged and off-key.

We scroll feeds, walk streets, lined with brittle promises,

our freedom cracking beneath rallying cries.

 

With every word he speaks, the air feels heavier,

the weight of the consequences like stones in our chests,

creating smog over cities we can barely afford.

 

A name rises in defiance,

a martyr for the cause,

paying the price to reveal what we’ve lost.

A life extinguished to expose the system’s flaws,

while progress falters, caught in an endless delay of the truth.

 

The headlines bleed outrage,

But we’ve become numb to the drip,

like frogs in boiling water,

watching them gut what’s left of hope.

 

They think we’ll stay docile,

content with hashtags and empty rage,

watching the world burn from the sidelines,

indifferent to the flames.

 

But this isn’t sustainable.

It’s gasoline on a dry field,

and we are the match.

 

Done