There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
It is the instigation Of the masses into classes In order to segregate and create hate among the races By all of the media's pretty painted
By A.C. Zempleni9 years ago in Poets
i see you but do you see me do you really see me the invisible child silently screams dismissed for another back burner
By Beth9 years ago in Poets
Settle down and stop telling people they don't exist. It gets very disheartening after a while. You can believe what you will,
By Danni Greer9 years ago in Poets
Hate begets violence as victims become perpetrators; Ignorance fuels anger while death causes intolerance; Religion and blasphemy
By Christine O'Reilly9 years ago in Poets
You throw like a girl, you run like a girl, words you can't get away from. You scream like a girl, you fight like a girl,
By Deanna9 years ago in Poets
A new year imparts its soft lips of forgiveness a whisper of grace humanity, faith renewed hope challenges the villain Evildoers strike
My eyes are like glue can’t sleep under the florescent dreams Spent my formative years on a farm pretending to drive motorcycles in the big town
By Morgan Evans9 years ago in Poets
"Grow up" they said "To where?" Where the grasses are green The floor cold and dead Names on stone in a row? "Grow up" they said
By Shayfe Shiphrah9 years ago in Poets
I wanted to tell a story: About motivation; About the feeling it makes as it tingles down the sharp recesses of your spine;
By C.E. Zulin9 years ago in Poets
Why do we live in a world where we believe happiness only belongs in photos? I have to let you know that photos are the hardest things to see. Where our breaths have stopped, smiles are frozen, and dreams don't come true. But tell me smiling, breathing, and dreaming are they all real to you? At this moment you're living in now not fixed in time. The beauty of now is something a picture could never grasp. So be happy outside a photo.
By Rutes M9 years ago in Poets
Benjamin Franklin cried in the corner. His cotton blanket bleeding chlorophyll, saturating the gold encrusted floor. Bound in chains, his sadness turned into rage.
By Kourtney Risher9 years ago in Poets
A generation angry is a caged animal, a bear poked on countless occasions by those who wear its fur while filing its claws.
