There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
The color is black which means death, fear, authority, evilness, intimidation, aggression and rebellion BUT I am black I won’t lie and say that it doesn't make me feel trapped
By Giannica Cicero Garcia5 years ago in Poets
We catch glimpses of alive Kaleidoscopes through color leaves in the dusty, dusky hospital skylight (is it light or is it dirt?)
By Sobes5 years ago in Poets
Ivory is the color of my delicate skin But below the surface, lies a struggle within From a Filipino father, and an Irish mother it seems
By Sarah Nunez5 years ago in Poets
i turn like pockets inside out and emptied fall back down to earth and the gray lines in the hoary linoleum merge gold
By Eka Savajol5 years ago in Poets
Just because I'm brown does not mean I'll be put down. I don't have the privilege of being white I'm not black enough to fight for rights.
By ban5 years ago in Poets
White Americans have sold our bright future At the cost of black lives. This is too high A cost and there is no future Cutting our body in half, that doesn’t result in both
By Justin C5 years ago in Poets
For art to breathe, touch lifts into sound, and sound tastes of color. For the senses to eat at sanity, to make dissonant the shadow of memory:
By Jiji Ya5 years ago in Poets
When life leaves me coated in sadness and grief, I like to bathe under a waterfall of inner peace. It starts with just a drip,
By Nia Alexander5 years ago in Poets
These dots connect no line Spaced apart, far and fine As a child I begged them fade Lived life only in the shade Some are big, others small
By Nicole Deviney5 years ago in Poets
Don't worry about it, the words slip out of lips Scowl But what did they say? Tell me please! 'It's not important' seen clearly said with the lips
By Chelle Destefano5 years ago in Poets
Somedays I wish I could just take off this brown skin I’m in, It’s such a heavy burden to bear. Ironically, it’s the first thing people seem to notice about me.
By Angela Goode5 years ago in Poets
My first Halloween in America: Standing in front of the Halloween costume wall Princess dresses hanging like shiny promises
By Iris Kim5 years ago in Poets
