One Nation, United by Poetry. Exploring the United States of America through word.
Hispanic, Asian, White, Black, or Native American. Post- Office worker, Journalist, Saint, Doctor, or Fast- food worker.
By Victoria Ward8 years ago in Poets
I think an economy makes ¢s. We want money. Money makes ¢s Economies work all around the idea of ¢s. Economies, themselves, just make ¢s
By Ryan Chan8 years ago in Poets
Born, raised, fed, and dressed on DuPont’s dime. Walk the line. Wild and Wonderful. Montani semper lerberi. Montani semper fi
By Rachel Propst8 years ago in Poets
When did we stop paying attention to the character of someones heart, and instead place more value on the words they choose…
By Roleby Colvin8 years ago in Poets
Consumer life, we got what you need Consumer mind, all you need is greed Consumer clock, there's no time for sleep Consumer highs, now you're six feet deep
By Karyn Zen8 years ago in Poets
I know this election woke me up to the people in this world. All I can truly grasp onto is how most are NEGATIVE or LAZY. Including me.
By Christine Lopez8 years ago in Poets
Put down your bible Put down your gun Look around Veterans in streets Starving children Young girls Pregnant With the baby of a stranger
By Miss. J8 years ago in Poets
You know what sucks about society is that it's a bitch, it tells you thing and then does another definitely a definition of a hypocrite,
By cheyenne 8 years ago in Poets
we are America Where are you, America? Where is the dream that brought the endless, teeming masses to your shore? Where is the lamp you lit and held beside the golden door?
By Bill Davidson8 years ago in Poets
You wear blue you carry a gun and a badge only goes to show how little struggle you've had you uphold our laws decide what's right and what's wrong
By Ailyna Redbird8 years ago in Poets
I understand the media is best when at their worst Up from John P. Zenger down to William Randolph Hearst. The ratings climb, the story's good- whatever it may be.
By Paul Forshtay8 years ago in Poets
The foundations under the house are three feet tall. A cobbled path leads into a chain link fence, crawling with blackberry vines.
By A. F. Litt8 years ago in Poets
