Fifty years ago, hope filled the day,
A future bright, with hearts at play.
Today, society stands divided,
Accusations rise, no truth provided.
The voices shout, the words collide,
Each side believes they’re pushed aside.
Instead of listening, we take a stand,
Each claim a judgement made on hand.
Social media feeds the fire,
Where opinions flare, and truths expire.
Anonymity masks the pain,
And understanding’s lost in vain.
We argue, point, and seek to blame,
But rarely pause to share the same.
It’s not about who’s right or wrong,
But seeing what makes us belong.
"Never lose hope," my mother said,
"Hope’s not a thing to fear or dread.
Expectations fail, they fall apart,
But hope comes deep within the heart."
I carry hope, not bound by fears,
It doesn’t fade through passing years.
My hope survives when dreams are shattered,
A strength that keeps me from being battered.
The wounds we bear can turn to strength,
When we choose love and go the length.
Let’s shift our gaze, and truly see,
A better world can come to be.
So let’s not shout or fight to be right,
But look for hope and seek what's bright.
For when we listen, hope will grow,
And in its strength, the truth will show.
Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Rolph David.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 25.01.2025.
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