In the bustling streets, whispers rise,
From broken homes and tearful eyes,
Unheard voices scream in vain,
Seeking solace, shedding pain.

Beneath the neon, shadows tread,
On hopes and dreams, so often bled,
A cry for justice, loud and clear,
Yet met with silence, fueled by fear.

The chains of poverty, tightly wound,
Bind hearts and souls beneath the ground,
Yet in their eyes, a fire bright,
A spark of hope, a will to fight.

Together we stand, hand in hand,
We rise as one, to make a stand,
For every voice, and every plight,
Until the dawn, brings forth the light.