There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
The Silent Door I heard it move in the corner, A whisper pressed against the wall, Breathing secrets I could not name, Shadows curved like old fingers.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 12 months ago in Poets
My life keeps ending up on a crumpled grocery list wedged in my back pocket. Milk, eggs, bread, spinach if I feel like someone
By Milan Milic12 months ago in Poets
I have a hoodie I only wear on days when the air Feels too sharp for skin. It used to be navy, now it’s that tired, almost-black
Don’t be supporting them with laws that they did not read They are lawless Ruleless To become rulers The voters can’t be right when the voters are oppressed
By L.I.E12 months ago in Poets
Jack the Ripper I walked the streets where fog felt alive, where lamps shook faintly as if afraid to shine, his shadow lingered
I drink from the same chipped mug On the days I don’t know how to be a person. It’s the one with the hairline fracture running down the handle like a secret vein,
The Voice Beneath Beneath the floorboards it whispered, Calling names I had never known, The air trembled with old grief,
Spellbound Breakfast She stirred my coffee, And turned the sugar into frogs, They hopped across the table, Ribbits punctuated the morning air.
I keep your name as a password still, a quiet glitch in my free will. Four numbers, two letters, the month that we met— security question I can’t quite forget.
stop step back then turn around to once again face that which you already defeated the mountains climbed raging rivers crossed
By Lolly Vieira12 months ago in Poets
the discovery process objectionable but uncontested justified prejudice stayed within jurisdiction but not one single peer in the twelve
By ⸘jason alan‽12 months ago in Poets
There’s a lost and found inside my chest, a box behind the ribs, where all the almosts and not-quites go with half-chewed ticket stubs.
