There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
I dreamed of a big family then too not have a big family though more than one kid I don’t want my one kid to grow up and be selfish, like everyone
By Julie Unruh6 years ago in Poets
Listen Listen, I don’t comprehend the motion of emotions that is devouring your skin cells. I only intend to understand the significant agony you are currently experiencing. This plague of despair hasn’t phased me for odd reasons, yet I’m still hear to listen. Maybe even to give you some encouragement to the side you are blinded too.
By Kantshens6 years ago in Poets
No one will truly know the tears I shed, the fear that haunts me like a shadow lurking behind. For the foot steps I tread lightly into the sand, quickly swallowed whole by the waves of depression that crash over me.
By Alixzandra Wiseman6 years ago in Poets
She breathe out a deep sigh, it seems she's preparing her final goodbye, and I can't help but be broken, in an abyss of all the things left unspoken.
By moonlit 6 years ago in Poets
Her name was Gay, from a time when the word also meant bright like flowers, or the awnings at a fair. Gay was tall and beautiful
By Karen L Griffin6 years ago in Poets
Speaking to the poor unseen people talking of dreams of riding boxcars, homelessness, and eating soup from skeletons as the guy behind me plays invisible drums,
Words scattered on a screen Thoughts forever captioned A voice without a body Disconnected from the source Anonymous behind the screen
By Sandi Robertson-Brooks6 years ago in Poets
Looking at my trees. Not one the same. 9 geneses. Why? One makes shade. One food. One shelter. One seasonal—the only one alive in
By Angelique Pesce6 years ago in Poets
Roses are red while silence is gold but it’s shine’s dull as a rusty copper bill flying high above the poppies pushed against the lilac lotuses,
By Em E. Lee6 years ago in Poets
One…two…three… Twelve…and a half Once in the morning And once at night Pop…swallow…carry on with my day Desperate to sleep at night
By Kayla Evans6 years ago in Poets
What has become my Corona War Trilogy started life with a poem at the onset of the crisis. This is it. Call to Arms “Experience keeps a dear school,”
By Rosanna Teale6 years ago in Poets
Black lives matter, But not when it's a gay black boy driven to suicide by his own family. Black lives matter, But not when it's a black trans woman murdered by her ex-boyfriend.
By Chidimma Benjamin6 years ago in Poets
