In shadows dark, behind closed doors,
A silent nightmare begins to soar,
Where hearts are shattered, souls are torn,
As cries for help are left forlorn.
A plea for aid, a desperate call,
From trembling hands, bruised and small,
But the system turns a deafened ear,
A twisted dance of dread and fear.
Days turn to weeks, weeks become years,
As precious time dissolves in tears,
Behind the scenes, the gears grind slow,
While victims suffer, torment grows.
Oh, how the system fails the weak,
Turning a blind eye when they seek,
Protection, justice, solace, and aid,
In darkness, their pleas slowly fade.
The bureaucracy’s sluggish pace,
Ignites frustration, a bitter trace,
Of broken promises and shattered trust,
Leaving victims in the cold, left to adjust.
As twisted cycles continue to repeat,
Injustice thrives, as hope faces defeat,
The hands of time, a cruel display,
As victims suffer in the ceaseless gray.
But still, we raise our voices high,
Demanding change, no more to comply,
As we speak out, demanding aid,
For the forgotten ones, who live afraid.
For in this fight, we’ll never tire,
We’ll fan the flames, fuel the fire,
Until the system heeds our plea,
And helps those trapped in agony.
For no more shall the weak endure,
The wrath of violence, the pain obscure,
Let the system mend, and swiftly send,
A beacon of hope, their wounds to mend.
Thank-you for reading
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