social commentary

There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.

Risque Hey Hey!
I had a dream, you'll think me rude, I was entirely in the nude. Though my friends were rather red "I have it to do" is all I said.
By Ruth Stewart3 years ago in Poets
Fullness is Only Part of a Cycle.
I finally slept, but my mind was awake. A dream left a memory I cannot shake. What I saw in night's visions helped me find my way
By Katherine D. Graham3 years ago in Poets
Next Stop
I always dream I chase a train station As if my life depended on the ride Hoping the next stop is a safe haven But knowing the narrow tracks are no guide
By Ann G.3 years ago in Poets
Multicoloured Contamination
What is that formation? Careful, it’s not the safest! Multicoloured contamination – says the bedroom scientist. ~ A special disinfectant can be used, but once in a blue moon,
By Dr. Alexandra Simond3 years ago in Poets
What are some of hard lessons in life that someone has to experience
There are many hard lessons that people learn in life, and these lessons can vary greatly from person to person depending on their individual experiences. Some common hard lessons that people may learn include:
By Liam Smith3 years ago in Poets
The Art Of Writing
I do not really consider myself a writer, Not in the same way as I consider myself a woman, a female, Or as I consider myself a mother, a parent,
By Colleen Millsteed 3 years ago in Poets
Emotional Currency
How can we rationalize the expectation for uniform expression, the arbitrary metrics assumed to signify the echt of the emotion,
By Nil3 years ago in Poets
Recurring
Metal spikes hammered into every pressure point of my body An unconscious allusion to my fear of needles --trypanophobia--
By Nil3 years ago in Poets
The wall spoke
She sat in the beautiful hall, with white walls bored, she thought, 'should I take a walk'; Oh! if only walls can talk.
By Oluremi Adeoye 3 years ago in Poets
Testimony
Man made religion shattered my family People pleasing is How they raised me I’ve been forsaken Misused, misunderstood, and mistaken
By Cheyenne Mercado3 years ago in Poets
Fault Line
broken in by a broken system suckled on a noxious tit reared by a chemical fixation cult taught how to be a piece of shit
By Bren3 years ago in Poets
lucid.
I am nine years old, or fifteen, or twenty-two. Young enough that when I enter the department store, I lack the self-assuredness that
By Cara Wittekind3 years ago in Poets