There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
The sound of their screams echoes across centuries The blood-soaked grounds bleed the blood of our relatives The voices of our ancestors vanquished in time, forgotten in history
By Tiffany Orton8 years ago in Poets
** Windows 95 starting...** Loaded, ready to go Firewall active, but the systems still slow?! Click, click...Delete, delete...
By Bryttany Mack8 years ago in Poets
If someone's already down,Bleeding out on the ground,You don't land the final blow.You leave them alone. Landing that final blow,When they can't even protect themselves?That's cowardly.You.You're cowardly.
By Aneta Zygmunt8 years ago in Poets
You come at me strong; some force to be reckoned with, knocking me down flat in the blink of an eye — taken from one stance to none.
By D B8 years ago in Poets
OPPRESSION . RECESSION. DEPRESSION. BLACK SKIN MAKES YOU LESS THAN LESS THAN. REPARATIONS. A GROTESQUE SITUATION. WHO BUILT THIS COUNTRY ON THEIR BACKS
By Brenée Carey8 years ago in Poets
This realization is seen as unwise and untimely with election season upon us. But don't we deserve someone at least a little poised and righteous?
By Briana Aeschliman8 years ago in Poets
I have foreseen a future... A future without money, without want or need. A future where hope is a word rarely spoken except to honor the path in which we've arrived.
By Joshua Vietri8 years ago in Poets
I've hated all my jobs. But they're something to fill my time so I can fill their pockets and fill myself with cheap food and nights in. I'm here with my scraps trying to piece together my sanity so I can find something resembling happiness. Taping together the things I've collected so I can trick myself into thinking I still have purpose. What is my purpose now? Now that I've hit this wall and the notes aren't flowing and I feel like the truest and deepest love I've ever felt is being stripped from me and replaced over and over with fake smiles and empty "how are you today"s, only to be met by grumps and growls from mouths who followed the paved path and still seem to be as unhappy as I am as I stand behind the counter on my pile of rubble that I've been trying to clear away so I can stand alongside them...on a clear road leading to the same place all roads end.
By Hannah8 years ago in Poets
Words formed of love, formed of hate; made from having to get up out of bed in the early morning: dragged from the warmth ready to despise
Don't ask my what my name is It's not a wolf whistle slung over your back Or a wink from across the bar It's not a shallow bleat
By Victoria K8 years ago in Poets
A calm sphere floating through the empty; bright green and blue colours visible to anyone out there, A simple and clear atmosphere to keep us within our air, as we float around simply, just leading our lives.
By s b8 years ago in Poets
tall and skinny, sporty and tan, that's what you think of when I say society's acceptable woman or man. flat stomach and abs,
