There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
I am always left in utter chaos Of life’s unfair reality, Where truth is nothing but whispers And lies are heard from afar,
By Paula Maddox4 years ago in Poets
It is a noun. A word used to describe a person, place or thing. It is a concept whose base definition is “ quality or state of being free”.
By Bianca Hubbard4 years ago in Poets
SLLLLAAAAPPPPP!!! and Chaos followed. We the public watching on tv or in the same room with those involved must remember something.....
By Kia T Cooper-Erbst4 years ago in Poets
I thrive off of stories of sorrow and struggle I’ve wallowed in the promise of a “better tomorrow” In glory and pride, I captivate, penetrate your eyes...
By Katie Lauren4 years ago in Poets
I refuse to believe that I am destined to be on my own As a member of the human race I crave a connection, A loving lifeline to those beautiful souls I can call mine
By Colleen Millsteed 4 years ago in Poets
I am not just a statistic, a disorder you won’t say, I am autistic. I’m not some cutesy term to help you sleep at night,
By Josey Pickering4 years ago in Poets
Nestled there moving into the folds until they don’t actually have a beginning Rooted It is the importance of loyalty that squeezes possibility.
By Nan Pedercini-Acquista4 years ago in Poets
Fog Rises Up Called by The morning, Darkness Turns slowly To light. And the birds Announce morning, A new beginning,
By Bob Metivier4 years ago in Poets
The fog in my brain is never clear. I only hear lies in my mind motivated by fear. I have to fix what's not broken and nothing is stopping me. Here it comes, my self fulfilling prophecy.
By Joe Patterson4 years ago in Poets
Everything taking place has to go my way and if it can't go my way, it's the highway. I need no other's help, I'm a self winner. I think about no one else because I'm self centered.
If only one could forget the hindered cement brewed from stubborn toil, perhaps lacerated limbs would have no need for subconscious recoil-
By Darienne Williams4 years ago in Poets
A drought in connection, Starving for truth The threat of conformity depriving the youth A dry hunger, A thirst for what’s past
By Anna Kenniston 4 years ago in Poets
