A reverse “palindrome” poem about the crisis of our time.
Who are we if division becomes the anthem we rise to each morning?
Who are we if truth is traded for whatever comforts the loudest crowd?
Who are we if facts vanish the moment they challenge ideology?
Who are we if people with disabilities are asked to prove their worth again and again?
Who are we if support is redesigned to look like generosity instead of a right?
Who are we if education becomes a battlefield where curiosity is the first casualty?
Who are we if stories disappear from shelves because fear calls them dangerous?
Who are we if wealth draws the border between the protected and the abandoned?
Who are we if power demands obedience more than justice?
Who are we if leaders praise freedom while quietly tightening the walls around it?
Who are we if democracy wears a smile as it’s being hollowed out?
Who are we if we convince ourselves resistance is pointless?
Who are we if we say we are too small to matter?
Who are we if we already believe we are lost?
Now read it again, from the bottom up.
Who are we if we already believe we are lost?
Who are we if we say we are too small to matter?
Who are we if we convince ourselves resistance is pointless?
Who are we if democracy wears a smile as it’s being hollowed out?
Who are we if leaders praise freedom while quietly tightening the walls around it?
Who are we if power demands obedience more than justice?
Who are we if wealth draws the border between the protected and the abandoned?
Who are we if stories disappear from shelves because fear calls them dangerous?
Who are we if education becomes a battlefield where curiosity is the first casualty?
Who are we if support is redesigned to look like generosity instead of a right?
Who are we if people with disabilities are asked to prove their worth again and again?
Who are we if facts vanish the moment they challenge ideology?
Who are we if truth is traded for whatever comforts the loudest crowd?
Who are we if division becomes the anthem we rise to each morning?
But the question does not end here.
When each side insists the other is wrong, who is left to show what is true once ideology drowns out fact.
Who are we if we refuse to surrender curiosity?
Who are we if we choose people over power?
Who are we if we stand against cruelty, no matter who delivers it?
Who are we if we rise together instead of shrinking apart?
Who are we if we are not lost at all, but only waking up?
This message is written from the centre.
Not the political centre, but the human one.
The place where most of us actually live.
Between exhaustion and hope.
Between wanting to believe in our institutions and watching them drift further from the people they were built to serve.
To the leaders who shape our laws.
To the parties that trade slogans and promises.
To the movements fighting for change.
To those caught in the middle, pulled between competing truths.
Please hear this.
We are living through a moment where too many decisions are made in the language of division.
Where disability is framed as a burden instead of belonging.
Where education is treated like a battleground instead of a foundation.
Where power is protected more carefully than people.
Where democracy erodes quietly, politely, while we argue over who is allowed to ask questions.
This is not a message from the left, or the right.
It is a plea from the people standing between them.
The ones who still believe that empathy is not a weakness.
That truth should not wobble depending on who speaks it.
That freedom does not require the silencing of another voice to survive.
If both sides keep shouting that the other is wrong, then no one remains to defend what is right.
If ideology becomes the measure of truth, then truth stops belonging to any of us.
So hear this, clearly:
We are not your talking points.
We are not the wedge issues you carve the country into.
We are neighbours, workers, caregivers, students, disabled folks, artists, immigrants, families, elders, youth.
We are the ones who carry the weight of every policy you pass.
And we are asking you, calmly, firmly, without apology, to remember who your decisions reach first.
This is a call for accountability.
For humility.
For courage.
For leadership that protects the vulnerable instead of politicising them.
For policies that lift people instead of dividing them into “deserving” and “undeserving.”
For a democracy that is not afraid of its own citizens.
For those already fighting: keep going.
Your voice matters more than ever.
For those who are afraid to speak – you are not alone.
Change has always started with someone who thought they were too small to matter.
And for the leaders in power who will read this…yes, including you;
We’re watching.
We’re thinking.
We’re voting.
We’re not as divided as you believe.
And we expect better.
For ourselves.
For our children.
For the country we still hope to recognize.
This is what the centre sounds like.
Not silence.
But a steady voice refusing to be pulled to the edges.
The world is now watching…
Who are you?
What will you do?
Thank you for listening.
