social commentary
There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Beautifully Different
Life would'nt worth living if the world was all grey and everyone spoke and acted the same way. I don't think i'd enjoy a world that's to clear where I never could encounter what's called funny or what's called weird. I'm in love with all diversity what's different and what's strange. How blue can stand for sadness and how red can stand for pain all because of different things we associate with in our brain. Through deep brown eyes I see our world and its amazing filled with people who are orange or in other words fascinating. I look with optimism I never try to see whats coming, but I can see with better light how bright we are becoming. No longer stuck on black and white now every colors showing. I face my storms way better now with all the rainbows glowing. Try not to be one color because its all you've ever known. I chose to be beautifully different I created one of my own.
By Angelic Moore5 years ago in Poets
You Must See
Hello it’s me, the p.o.c., the boy by definition you cannot see. Absolutely destitute. Devoid of color, devoid of light. The thriving son of midnight. Fortunately, I don’t look to Webster to define me. I walk with my brown skin on display each and every day. They say be color blind, but I’m begging you to see mine. See all the beauty, see all the ugly. Appreciate. You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to run up and hug me as I stroll past. Just accept that we’re both in the same class. We’re on the same plane and have been for awhile. Accept that this extra melanin I live within is nothing to reconcile. Nothing to “deal with”. Nothing to make “relatable”. The differences are what makes life worth living. The different hues that we’re imbued with are everything. We can’t cast them aside in an effort to homogenize. So look at me! I mean truly. Look into me! The former negro, turned colored, turned black, turned African American, now a p.o.c. The names grow and change but I remain. The man, by my own definition, you must see. In all his wretched, awful, wonderful, brilliant beauty.
By Isaac DiPina5 years ago in Poets
Professional?
A lot of my poetry is personal to me and documents my ups and downs with mental illness. Sometimes poetry can be cathartic and it’s always been there for me to utilise as a tool to vent everything out that I cannot speak. When I get overwhelmed I can sit and write it all out and suddenly those emotions become less intense, less painful.
By Erin Shields5 years ago in Poets
