Fact scarier than fiction

You know we've erred, when your eyes frantically search for a word,
That could describe the opposite of a Utopian world,
Dsytopia, you learn, is a society strictly fictional,
That is in some important way frightening or undesirable.

You know we've erred, when dystopia as a word,
Fails miserably at describing what your society recently offered,
When it seems obsolete and disease-stricken,
When it doesn't grasp the graveness of the situation.

You know we've erred, when reading a story clenches your teeth,
When your lungs hold back a silent scream underneath,
When you watch your heart quietly grieve,
When you close your eyes in disbelief,
When neither the story leaves you long after,
Nor does the helplessness or the anger.

You know we've erred, when a girl is raped in the capital of our country,
When daylight seems feeble in protecting her dignity,
When she pays for nothing but her existence,
And when deeds performed with hands and feet,
Seem worse than those by bombs and guns.

As she battles for her life on that woeful hospital bed,
It wasn't really her who was to be dead,
As she was struck with that shameful iron rod, it can surely be said,
'Twas humanity that took a mighty blow on the head.

You know we've erred, when you can't possibly feel her unavoidable pain, her undeserved shame,
When any penalty seems a little too soft, a little too lame,
When peace loving eyes are filled with aggressive disappointment,
When they unflinchingly suggest a solution in capital punishment,
You know its time to not feign, but accept this predicament,
Yes we have erred and it is our responsibility,
Dystopia can no longer be a reality.