There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Speak now or forever be seen as meek Constantly stuck on replay of what you really wanted to say Always feeling inferior
By Holly D4 years ago in Poets
Because of your religious ways, You take us back to ancient days. How dare you? What gives you the right, to tell me, What to do with MY body?
By The Mouthy Renegade Writer4 years ago in Poets
A man should be a gentleman By his status, his ranks as a boy he tackles A hidden conditioning bounded by the aged, he shackles
By Mr. Jax 4 years ago in Poets
"Check your rings," Watch says; It's dissatisfied with me, (Almost all the time). I set my goals low To avoid this very thing
By Jan M Flynn4 years ago in Poets
Ladies what gone bad a morning can't come good a evening, Hotness is gift, baby born in it. Barbie Doll. Sweetheart throw away all toys DaddyBlem here. Buzz.
By Sean Noble4 years ago in Poets
White. An absence of color that, coincidently, makes its own color. A fairly new concept; “What is it to be White?” I’ve been scrutinized and played down but such spiteful white eyes.
By Dewdrop Anwyd4 years ago in Poets
The world isn't going to hell, it's been there for far too long. You've just had a comfy spot in the shade, a designer pair of sunglasses,
By Josey Pickering4 years ago in Poets
What can honestly be done when you have no will or want to accomplish anything? Such as if lazyness was an Olympic sport you would win the gold, silver, and bronze, you would win everything.
By Arthur Walton4 years ago in Poets
Everything is just a show, Orchestra by a group of people, With common self-serving interest. On the pretext of humanity,
By Life Lesson4 years ago in Poets
A call rings out that's meant only for some and they're the ones with no doubt or fear as they do what needs done. Their hearts beat fast
By Jason Ray Morton 4 years ago in Poets
Sitting alone in a mall is not nearly as lonely as it once was for me. I found myself in a small corner on a bench. The constant buzz of people filling my ears as I awaited patiently for friends. Old me would have started crying. Yet now I’m an old broke college student.
By Illusive4 years ago in Poets
It's a difference to love for real and to not to be loved at all it's a difference to see someone with whole the ugliness but still to have faith and believe in their heart and soul
By Daria Blazek4 years ago in Poets
