There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Welcome to the new world So glad you could join us, I know you've just woken up. "From where?" You ask. From the dark scary place called earth.
By Kristen Rizzo5 years ago in Poets
Sugarplum Fairy, so blank and glaring. Powdered sugar trails from your wand to your tiny waist to the sorry excuse of skin between your nose and upper lip to the flurry
By Natalie Orman5 years ago in Poets
I’m a blue scrub soldier In a war I didn’t start . I’m a carer not a fighter Less courage, all heart.
By Oby5 years ago in Poets
I grew under a grey sky, Bolstered by black books. Some people can read the same book all their lives, Grey morning and grey evening.
By TheSpinstress 5 years ago in Poets
Justifying the means. Is not what it seems. In a world that we see, watching the world as it bleeds. People see each other through lenses. The ones that all cleanses. Every flaw, every blemish. They all seem to diminish.
By Theodore Dembowski5 years ago in Poets
The day they tie blue and red flags together to blend some purp. The day our views aren’t just black or white— we’ll see in color.
By Rem Wind5 years ago in Poets
It is so simple. i was born like you you were born under a blue sky with or without gun powder grey clouds with our mothers within or about
By sandra sanchez palacios5 years ago in Poets
Behind the doors, within our minds, Thoughts so different, in each we find, We try to make, of this world some sense, Which can be so, troublesome and intense,
By Alan Firmin5 years ago in Poets
Let run the delicate rays of golden light and rush alongside the color bright green and blue until I find the purple in my blood
By Madisen Crandall5 years ago in Poets
What are you? What do you mean? What am I? Do you mean where Im from? Or is the places Ive seen? Because frankly sir I do not know what you mean...
By Paul Michael Wright5 years ago in Poets
Lavender - a natural hue of purple - stains her nails with iridescence, Rings adorn her fingers as she carries her heritage on the tips of her existence,
By Melody Mann5 years ago in Poets
The day and night shine brightly as a prism of shades dancing in my line of sight. Like computer screen static, or pixie dream girl manic, a rainbow flitters on a canvas black and white.
By Jacqueline Shea5 years ago in Poets
