There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
“It’s only one straw," said 8 billion people. We live as though We have another place to go. When in reality we’re losing our only home.
By B6 years ago in Poets
I just can't seem to sleep tonight. There's too much trouble, too much strife. I'm too busy trying to save my own life. I feel like I'm marching to a drum and fife.
By Fred Bobbitt6 years ago in Poets
There's a red crayon in her hand and she's coloring Each new line is a way for her to let go The crayon is her portal to a world where she's in control
By Elizabeth Biz Diedrick6 years ago in Poets
There's a voice in me right now, And it's telling me that I'm not good enough. I try to shrug it off and say That I'm just in a limbo– an in-between state.
By Bianca Wargo6 years ago in Poets
Dust to dust by the broken dreams of the humanity, you ain't got a lot to say, the words are sad. Now, our companion, the pains of the heart and the empty eyes.
By Alexis Karpouzos6 years ago in Poets
It's like a hand Reaching inside your skull, Slowly– ruthlessly– crushing your brain. Your head throbs, Over and over, with each bit of
The bare bones of the situation is wealthy lifestyles create piles of bodies billionaires and trillionaires and millionaires
By John Ridgway6 years ago in Poets
Lungs of our earth is burning Let us burn with it. It's doomsday And there's no Superman. It's Ragnarok But there's no Thor.
By Dipanjoy Dey6 years ago in Poets
I'm tired of this lying, people are dying; You're complaining but know you can't maintain it. It's a shame, you ain't going nowhere,
By Rene'e L. Ellis6 years ago in Poets
On being seen I long to be free. To find my way to the wide open expanse within and without—bringing it to the world to be met with whatever comes.
By Lauren Scott6 years ago in Poets
To whom it may concern, Your opinion is not the only one that matters. I am also entitled to mine. I can pick my own clothes and make up my own mind.
By Haley Vandyke6 years ago in Poets
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” They ask. A rockstar. A princess. A pirate. The president. Adults hiding behind cleverly construed masks.
By Jessica6 years ago in Poets
