There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Children fear the monsters in their closet The monsters under their bed They count on their parents to convince them it's in their head
By Julia Kristi6 years ago in Poets
Is it the colour of my skin? That sharpens your eye to wander up and down like an elevator that is only uplifting my thoughts of your shifty behaviour.
By Rose6 years ago in Poets
How we perceive things is what scares me. It's the basis for everything in our world. Perceived power, perceived status, perceived lack of what we have..an' the fear of what we never knew or were told
By Celia M6 years ago in Poets
I used to have conversations with God. I asked Him to give me an ear to hear Him more clearly and, He revealed Himself to me.
By Jojo H6 years ago in Poets
Is the person you’re talking to A male or female It’s a male! Are you sure?! YES! Hmmmm... are you sure? Ok you know what no it’s not a male
By SAN6 years ago in Poets
Romanticise my poverty Make me your project Your Virtue Flag Your Drum Bang me Loud For the crowd Or in your own echo chamber
By Penny Blake6 years ago in Poets
Some of you may have, Wondered why, After the release, Of The Last Jedi, The fans seemed to shout, And cry. And on it went,
By Matthew Donnellon6 years ago in Poets
I played hide and seek with God today, Flew a kite, touched the sky. Played marbles with planets, tossed jacks with stars.
By Laura Manipura6 years ago in Poets
how about- 'I am the winter of your discontent' or just (your fucking winter) I'm still malleable under parenthesis, You'll get the same discounted skin,
By Catherine Hill6 years ago in Poets
I know what truth and reality are but they’re my truth and my reality no one else's I was nurtured on the knowledge of old and new
By Himiona Grace6 years ago in Poets
I hum the sound of God so that my spirit guides can hear me So that my ancestors can hear me, So that they can hear us. We are the daughters you dreamed of.
By Jenny Meya6 years ago in Poets
I throw confetti against the wall to see what sticks Watch the colored scraps fall and float scatter at my feet
By Gretyl Forrest6 years ago in Poets
