Oh, justice! Where is your guiding hand?
In Britain’s courts, a fractured land,
Three arms of law now feeble, blind,
Betray the broken, torment the kind.
The Prime Minister speaks, but his words are a stain,
Shielding the guilty, dismissing the pain.
A nation’s children, their innocence torn,
While Westminster slumbers, complicit, forlorn.
The judges, the lawmen, the councillors too,
Turn from the cries of the girls they once knew.
For fear of offence, for fear of reprieve,
They bury the truth, and let evil believe.
Call it grooming? No, call it by name!
Rape, degradation, a nation’s shame.
Yet those in power cast victims aside,
In service of optics, they let justice slide.
The police, meant to guard, protect,
Became complicit, their duty wrecked.
One whispered, “It’ll teach her a lesson, you’ll see,”
A protector turned predator in tyranny.
In Parliament’s halls, where answers should rise,
Silence and obfuscation fill the skies.
Multicultural dreams built on deceit,
Left broken lives strewn at their feet.
Where is inquiry? Where is reform?
The storm grows louder; the grief grows warm.
But ministers falter, their vision unclear,
Protecting their ranks while neglecting the sear.
Sir Keir kneels for the causes afar,
But not for the girls left battered and scarred.
He speaks of division, of far-right bands,
While ignoring the torment at his homeland’s hands.
Justice, oh justice, where have you gone?
The song of the broken, their harrowing song,
Echoes through courtrooms, through councils, through time,
Yet no one answers for such a crime.
Deport the dual citizens, bring the truth to light,
End the silence that cloaks the night.
Let inquiry reign, let victims be heard,
Restore the meaning to justice’s word.
For the mothers who weep, for the daughters who fall,
For the soul of a nation—hear their call.
Three arms of justice, mend your decay,
Or step aside for a brighter day.
Verbal Alchemy 