There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
I do not call it attention. That would make it sound like something chosen. It is not. It is accounting. Liability management. Quiet systems work.
By Taylor Ward6 months ago in Poets
You’re so ice cold I can’t fucking stand you You send me into a rage You damn near drive me insane What have i done for you to hate me
By Forest Green6 months ago in Poets
She Walked Through Doors That Never Opened For Her The carpet held its breath beneath her steps, Red like every warning she once ignored,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 6 months ago in Poets
Progress removed my neighborhood friends, the children of the families Harker, Henry, Hyers and Enns. The local market with rickety wooden floors
By Katherine D. Graham6 months ago in Poets
The Paper That Spoke My Name Ink settles like truth across a quiet morning, Fingers trace stories that feel far too close,
Iron rain descends, Silent homes turned into dust, Hope fades in the smoke.
Blood on the hand that toils. Sweat on the brow that stains. Hard work done as the end of the day looms near. For such a soul,
By Dean Traylor6 months ago in Poets
I. A Random act of madness, many miles away. But the mildness of my world changed that day. II. The phone call revealed,
Quests for kings and Isis Rugged swings into waterholes Sunburnt days in homemade cut offs Doors staying unlocked Calls to come home Whispers into the touchtone Secret plans for Saturday Popcorn breath and soda at Lowe’s His parents away for the weekend Calls to get off maryjane and laser beats Deadlines dissolving in smoke Blurred lectures go unclocked Random visit from parents Calls to get it together Walk-ups and metro cards Caffeine and donut runs Meetings for meetings Moving up, or across Calls for a corner office Backpack and visas Replacing bills and late lunches Almost but not quite enough, still moving Calls with no schedule Breakfast of oatmeal and mashed fruit Air tubes and stroller Sponge baths, checkers, on repeat Days drifting without time Calls to turn off the light
By Ms Jade 6 months ago in Poets
I lost it… I lost everything… Hope, Lightness, Support, Reputation, Potential… after the loss that I caused, I could not stop crying-
By Meghan LeVaughn 6 months ago in Poets
It’s difficult to be present when you’re just words on a screen, a glitching voice in a machine, buried somewhere behind a screen.
By Reece Beckett6 months ago in Poets
Life is a journey, we say we are free, but we all know the shackles of society block us, If we dare to be true to self, isolation and punishment will come our way.
By Seema Patel6 months ago in Poets
