There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Socially Enslaved Bathed in the charms of a lost soul faking a smile Feel free to comment Snapshots on a isolated island in the middle of ones mind alone but together just resting in time
By Julaine5 years ago in Poets
Today continues history, yesterday is tomorrow’s fight. Tomorrow is another day in which black lives are hoping to see the light.
By Jesenia Rivera5 years ago in Poets
InstaFaTwiNap@2020 Advertising of everything and anything Fake Phony Influencers of bullshit Cyber Woke Fuckers with conspiracy revolutions
WE didn’t ask for what is, Or what has been. WE didn’t ask to be where we are now, & I assure you, WE didn’t ask back then.
By Tronald's Chronicles5 years ago in Poets
Masked is our reflection. Don’t know how to speak, don’t know how to write, Day by day, injustice accumulates. Rusty laws, rules, thoughts, consciousness,
By Suntonu Bhadra5 years ago in Poets
A man and a woman walked the same road Hands joined till torn apart by the land of the free until the woman was alone
By theJustinCarol5 years ago in Poets
If I had a church I would have a place to preach To teach Am I in the right place? Yeah, I must be That's what she said
I always thought getting an explanation of why you are the way that you are would be helpful. I thought it would make someone feel better to know that they're not crazy.
By Becca Vega5 years ago in Poets
AT WAR I’m no princess I am no queen Not a dime or no dream I define myself as a warrior of high rank Solider with an elite record of outstanding action in war
I once looked into the eyes of God; Odd, As I didn't expect him To look back at me. To stare so intently As I just stood there,
By Rachel Lightfoot5 years ago in Poets
I refuse to work because I hate waking up early and I won’t take a loss or listen to a stupid boss yelling in my ear Can’t you tell a job is slavery and hell!
By The Sinister Pen5 years ago in Poets
once a long time ago, dolls were simply a past time with a wild imagination. that was then. day after day, morning after morning,
By Sarah Hamilton6 years ago in Poets
