whispersofthesoul.org

Tag: United States

  • We’re Not The Same

    We’re Not The Same

    “They Just Keep Taking”
    by Scott Randy Gerber

    They lie.
    With tongues forked like serpents behind a grin,
    Dressed in suits stitched from other people’s skin.
    They cheat.
    With a smile and a pen, then call it law,
    While hungry children bite their lips raw.

    They steal.
    And still—
    It’s not enough.

    They hoard the gold, the bread, the time,
    They twist the truth, reframe the crime.
    They steal from hands already bare,
    And curse the poor for breathing air.

    They build their castles out of bones,
    Then throw us pennies, like we’re stones.
    Their appetites are blackened holes,
    Consuming futures, eating souls.

    And yet—
    If they, with bellies aching, came,
    The ones they crushed would feel their shame…
    But still would lift a trembling hand,
    And offer bread, and try to stand.

    Because kindness doesn’t count the cost.
    It’s born from love, not what is lost.
    It gives when there’s no more to give,
    It’s how the meek still choose to live.

    That’s the tragedy.
    That’s the truth.
    The ones they rob—the old, the youth—
    Are rich in ways the tyrants fear,
    With hearts too wide, too bright, too clear.

    The child who weeps from hunger pains
    Would shelter them from cold and rains.
    The mother who can barely stand
    Would still extend her open hand.

    And still—
    They want more.

    More greed.
    More walls.
    More thrones.
    More chains.

    They gut the earth and steal the sky,
    And never once ask themselves why.
    Why the joy they buy won’t last,
    Why their souls feel made of glass.

    Because deep down, they know it’s true:
    That the strongest ones…
    Are not they, but you.

    The ones who break, yet bend to heal.
    Who give, not take.
    Who feel.

    In ragged homes and crowded streets,
    Where struggle and humanity meet,
    There blooms a grace they’ll never see—
    A wealth beyond their currency.

    One day, the walls will fall to dust.
    And power bow before the just.
    And they will hunger—yes, they will—
    And find no throne can keep them still.

    But even then, as sure as dawn,
    Some stranger poor, alone, withdrawn,
    Will see their eyes and offer bread,
    A hand, a light, a tear unshed.

    Because that’s what makes the humble great:
    They do not answer love with hate.
    They give, not for reward or fame—
    But just because…
    We’re not the same.

  • Through the Veil

    Through the Veil

    “Through the Veil”
    by Scott Randy Gerber

    They speak in circles, wrapped in gold,
    With promises pawned and souls long sold.
    We’re fed their theater, slick and sly,
    While justice weeps and freedoms die.

    They build their towers, hoard their feast,
    Shake hands with tyrants, dine with beasts.
    Smile on screen, then sign the deal—
    Another truth they’re paid to conceal.

    We’re not blind—we see the thread,
    The trails of power, stained blood red.
    The media dances, scripts in hand,
    While puppets pose and people stand.

    Yes, monsters lead and devils preach,
    In marble halls, just out of reach.
    But truth—it burns beneath the skin,
    A fire that waits to rise again.

    They poison water, strip the land,
    Sell our future, hand by hand.
    But even now, beneath this weight,
    The people stir—the hour’s late.

    We are not numbers. We are not drones.
    We are the workers, the mothers, the bones
    Of every empire built on backs—
    And we remember every tax.

    They think we’re too divided to rise,
    Too tired to see through the veil of lies.
    But cracks are forming in their wall,
    And even giants one day fall.

    Because people—real people—are mostly good.
    They’d help their neighbor if they could.
    They’d lend a hand, they’d share a meal,
    They still know how to care and feel.

    And that…
    Is something power cannot fake,
    A thing no tyrant yet could break.
    It doesn’t march—it simply is,
    The quiet strength the liar missed.

    So let them shout and throw their gold.
    Let the wolves pretend they hold
    The crown, the law, the righteous pen—
    They’ve never faced the truth of men.

    The ones who kneel, but only to pray.
    Who rise in storms and choose to stay.
    Who stand for love, and die for grace—
    Who see the soul behind the face.

    The world is shaking, yes—it groans,
    From Gaza’s cries to border zones,
    From poisoned truth to silenced speech,
    To broken dreams they’ll never teach.

    But in the ash, we plant the seed.
    In every wrong, a buried need.
    And when they fall—as all lies do—
    The dawn will come. The sky turns blue.

    Good will rise—it always does.
    Not from thrones, but from because.
    Because we must. Because it’s right.
    Because the dark still fears the light.

    Let them mock, and let them sneer—
    We were made for moments like this year.
    For courage, truth, and standing tall.
    And in the end, we win it all.