
So many ills
coming from all sides.
Neverending
stream of foul tides.
People hurting
and losing their way.
Darkness feeding
their souls every day.
Turn on the news—
helplessness haunts me.
Hate fills the space—
Flowing, on repeat.
It’s so easy
to lose hope and crash.
It seems certain
we’re burning to ash.
When the message
is ‘lay down and die’—
can be too hard
to dare and to try.
So what is this—
people flooding the streets?
Some so angry,
but most merry-meets.
When I see them
loving each other,
speaking kindly
as to their brothers—
it moves something
buried deep inside
and reminds me
of why we should try.
Love never fades—
goes out of fashion.
It’s always there,
right beside passion.
I must reach deep,
remember myself—
and pour it out
though kindness and help.
This is not weak
nor from a defect.
It’s born in strength—
our baseline precepts.
See the violence
they wreak every day.
Not justified,
despite what they say.
See the kindness
of people who care—
skin tone is no
prerequisite there.
Fighting against
others for hatred
is different than
backing what’s sacred.
Don’t look away,
pretend it’s not there—
embolden them
to broaden their dare.
Keep pressing on,
refuse to cower—
the only way
to take back power.
Rail against hate—
but don’t be tempted
to take it in
or to accept it.
Much stronger still
to respond with love—
embrace spirit
and goodness above.
— Liora
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Thank you so much. I feel the conflict in this., a live wrestle with the moment we’re in, the pull toward despair, and the deliberate choice not to stay there. I really felt that turning point when you describe seeing people in the streets: not perfect, not uniform, but kind, connected, alive. That’s where the poem lifts its head.
What I appreciate most is how clearly you name that love isn’t naïve or passive here. You frame it as strength, as resistance, as something that has to be remembered and practiced when hate is loud. The distinction you draw between standing for what’s sacred and being pulled into hatred feels important and earned.
By the end, it reads less like optimism and more like resolve. Not looking away. Not absorbing the poison. Choosing love as an active response. That feels honest, grounded, and quietly powerful.
Very nicely written with perfect expression of words 👌🏽