The Girl Who Hates Unfairness

Hey reader I am back with another poem for you. I hope it resonates with you in some way or the other. Cheers 🥂

She’s not a saint.

She’s not some savior cloaked in glory.

She’s a girl—raw, bleeding, tired—

but relentless.

Life broke its promises early.

It handed out abundance to the loud,

the cruel, the stars-aligned,

while the soft-spoken were left with nothing,

hands empty, hearts full of questions.

She noticed.

And noticing became her curse.

Whenever she saw someone rejected,

someone folded into the margins of existence,

she couldn’t stop herself.

She gave them her time, her respect,

sometimes her heart,

always her peace.

She didn’t love them.

She didn’t dream of forever.

She just wanted to smooth the edges

of their jagged lives,

to make them feel seen

for once.

It didn’t matter if it wrecked her.

It didn’t matter if she lost herself,

which she always did.

She hated the abnormalities,

the way the world chose its favorites

and left the rest to rot.

She hated it so much,

she made it her mission to fix the unfixable,

to glue the shattered pieces of other people,

even as her own cracks deepened.

Now she drifts,

a speck in the middle of a vast ocean,

untethered,

asking the only question that matters:

Who will save her?

Let me know how can we save such people. Share your thoughts in the comments section below 👇