There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Cry Baby Cry Cry baby cry beneath the bedroom light Pillow soaked heavy through another long night Tiny cracked heartbeat too wounded to sleep
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 6 months ago in Poets
sometimes I feel a sort of secondhand embarrassment when I see poetry trying so profusely to find rhyming profundity awkwardly stepping around
By Lolly Vieira6 months ago in Poets
Introduction Sea Glass From The Past is a wonderful find in Whitby. I wrote about the shop (see below) and have included my friend Les's story at the end that inspired me to visit the shop.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 6 months ago in Poets
accusations thicker than thieves, self-congratulations for cruelty, Chewing up my blood spitting it in my face, Clearly, the problem is that I don’t love Jesus.
By Harper Lewis 6 months ago in Poets
Life Was Different Then Life was different then beneath smoky skies Neighbours still spoke while looking in eyes Children stayed playing till streetlights came on
The Hour Nobody Could Remember At six o’clock the town fell strangely still, The traffic lights remained a steady red, Every clock stopped moving without cause,
That day, I was a happy baby… Before I was cursed… I was more welcome until I’ve been cursed. The curse took my life away!
By Meghan LeVaughn 6 months ago in Poets
The One Thing That Matters Is Love Money grows dusty and beauty grows old Fame disappears quicker than people are told Houses stand empty when hearts have turned cold
Gather By The River Gather by the river where the willow trees lean Where water moves softly through shadows unseen Bring all your stories and old weary bones
Peasants fear and revere the Dragon For his gold and food stores are massive They are unaware of how they feed his stash Through their hard work—blood, sweat, and tears
By Stephanie Hoogstad6 months ago in Poets
Would you please give me calm? Give me the compass of peace. I need the noise of suffering to cease and say the least. Rainforest. I can hear the rain of the forest cry out.
By Joe Patterson6 months ago in Poets
Don't give me your suit and tie, thinking I won't see the lie. Don't give me your worthless god of love and the bloody rod.
By Dean Traylor6 months ago in Poets
