social commentary
There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Lucky Country
The lucky country, or so we have believed, between you and I, my friend, we have been greatly deceived, No judgement, they tell us,
Non-Binary
Zero, One, Zero, One, Zero, One, Zero Seems to repeat over and over in my head My heart pounding like a drum during a war
The Play
I sit down in the kitchen on a chopped down bar stool, that my father favors of an evening, to consume his 10 pm ritual of cheese and crackers.
Demelza WattsPublished 7 years ago in PoetsSo, You Want to be a Millennial, Huh?
So, you want to be a millennial? A bipolar bi-centennial? Burdened by crippling debt But yolo no regret Trying a whole world of drugs
Danny KanePublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Fire of Rebellion
Now tell me how you feel Are you confident? are you in fear? Of life? Or the ultimate untold? “I’m unafraid, I do not fret. Nothing in this world can be of threat”
Mohammed DarasiPublished 7 years ago in PoetsBlack & Blue
I am awash with black and blue A sea of something new To me a foreign territory I will never know People so sharp and shiny they glow
Natalie SchafferPublished 7 years ago in PoetsWhen I Was Bored In a Maths Test, Pt 2
There once was a mathematician, Who was certainly no magician! She sat on her chair, With her grey balding hair, Teaching us was her only mission.
Society
You know what sucks about society is that it's a bitch, it tells you thing and then does another definitely a definition of a hypocrite,
shiney poetryPublished 7 years ago in PoetsRain Lullaby
We are Trembling limbs, slaves to the hands that use the whip. The hands that sketch what mouth would fear to own. And the mouths invited to thorns and crumbs.
Ifeoluwa AdeyemiPublished 7 years ago in PoetsSmall Beginnings
Once upon a time, Time was once upon a tree. The branches held it firmly; So it moved very slowly. Once upon a time, The clock joined its two hands;
Ifeoluwa AdeyemiPublished 7 years ago in PoetsWolf's Howl
Tis our time of our Oak Lord to rise, For the Holly King, who bares the winter wreath,Shall now lie in slumber once more,From his age long battle with the younger Oak Lord. Their swords are mixed with the symbols of an ancient world,As the spirits of the worlds and nature are one,Twisted and entwined joining the centre of the starlit sky to the centre of the earth.
Alixzandra WisemanPublished 7 years ago in PoetsBeginnings and Begunnings
Kicking, Screaming, Smiling. I take the first breath of air and for a brief moment I am the youngest person to exist. Kicking, Screaming, Whining.
Undefined WritingsPublished 7 years ago in Poets