Whispers of the Forgotten

In silent corners where shadows dwell,
Whispers echo, tales they tell,
Of lives unseen, of hopes restrained,
In quietude where sorrows remain.

Beneath the sun’s indifferent gaze,
They navigate the winding maze,
Of empty streets and alleys dim,
Where echoes fade, dreams grow thin.

Their faces worn by time’s cruel hand,
In every crease, a story grand,
Of battles fought, of burdens borne,
Of dignity in hearts forlorn.

In slumber deep, they find reprieve,
From hunger’s pang, they do deceive,
Yet in the morning’s harsh embrace,
Reality returns, they face.

For riches flow in distant streams,
While here, despair becomes their theme,
The world moves on, they’re left behind,
In whispers lost, their voices bind.

But listen close, beyond the veil,
A spirit strong, a heart set sail,
Through adversity, they rise anew,
Their whispers loud, their dreams pursue.

For every soul in shadows cast,
A yearning heart that beats steadfast,
To break the chains of poverty’s hold,
To find a future, bright and bold.

So heed their whispers, hear their cry,
Let empathy be our reply,
To lift them from the depths below,
To let their hopes and dreams to grow.

In whispers soft, they call our name,
Together, we can break the chain,
And in the echoes, hope is found,
In solidarity, unbound.