By Iram
The teacher calls the brightest to the front,
Applause echoes; the rest bear the brunt.
A student with 45% sits, unseen—
Is fairness a virtue, or just a machine?
Rules are drawn, bold and clear,
“Helmet for safety,” but some don’t adhere.
Is it rebellion, or ignorance at play?
Who decides the right way?
The wealthy man evades his tax,
Yet blames the poor for what they lack.
A farmer toils, but reaps no gain—
Is justice eyeless, or numb to pain?
Technology blooms, we boast and cheer,
But who pays the price for this frontier?
A child in a factory bends his spine,
For gadgets that glow and promises shine.
Borders are drawn, wars are fought,
Peace a dream, by violence bought.
Who’s the idol? Who’s in the wrong?
When both sing justice in a battle song.
An athlete fails, we call him weak,
While the winner’s glory reaches its peak.
Do orders define the worth of a soul,
Or is success just society’s goal?
A woman walks alone at night,
Her steps quicken under the streetlight.
Is her fear baseless, or justified?
Why must she question her own stride?
A child with dreams too vast, too wild,
Is told to conform, not be a free child.
Do we shape them to thrive or limit their song?
Is this nurturing right, or inherently wrong?
We judge the weak, praise the strong,
But who defines what’s right or wrong?
The truth bends, shaped by a voice,
Yet every soul deserves a choice.
So pause, reflect, and question deep—
In this moral maze, no path’s concrete.
Is the world perfect, or far from bright?
In the shades of argentine, what’s wrong? What’s right?
By Iram
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