social commentary

There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.

The Old Music Box
The Old Music Box It played a tune so soft, so low, It seemed to breathe, to hum, to cry, The lid was cracked, the paint was worn,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
lune,. Top Story - November 2025.
do you remember when i gifted a piece of you to my first love? a small plot by mare serenitatis (i wonder how many might own parts of you now?). the length of that relationship did not measure anywhere near the distance of our love, so we suffered greatly; burning bright, but oh so very brief. we'd look up, knowing wherever we were we looked upon you together, and we could feel each other.
By kpabout a year ago in Poets
NOT TODAY
“Not Today” The lady’s lips curled like a curse. Her eyes squinched tight, possessed by something bitter. She pointed sharp, jagged, relentless
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
The Fight for Fury
Through frozen, scarlet-colored tides I tread, ashes and grass crumbled beneath my feet. Without him I know I am good as dead.
By Lizzy Roseabout a year ago in Poets
Time Hunter
Being late is mindless. Imagine waking to a mindless dawn that slept in, or if the moon, discombobulated, washed your breakfast with blue. It follows
By Teresa Rentonabout a year ago in Poets
The Scariest Thing About Society Today
We have So Many Problems in Today's World... Burnout Rates that are Over 80%... Chronic Illness Continues to Dramatically Rise...
By H.E. Dr. Cody Dakota Wooten, COIE, DFM, DHMabout a year ago in Poets
The Hunt For Meaning
All of my life, I searched for meaning For someone I could feel like I belong For a purpose to life, some miracle gleaning
By Natasja Roseabout a year ago in Poets
The Hunt for Action at a Distance
Be prepared for this hunt, then state the witnessed proof, that action at a distance is not simply an ideology or a spoof. Often a being has the feeling that someone is watching them. Although hard to prove, it does not often change how they move. Most recognize the gaze, then ignore this feeling of awe, thinking their senses have a quirk or a flaw.
By Katherine D. Grahamabout a year ago in Poets
‘did you think it was about you again?’
—- ten dozen tired eyes at dusk, 5743, and a story that won’t begin. a draping under the curtained monotony, just another mind melding matrimony. a happy birthday lingering in late June’s grave. I’m fine, I’m vomiting. a vertical one hundred and eighty degrees. north no matter your venom. I’m trying, I’m adapting. just up and down and outwards of this skin. and the tropics are so frigid from out here’s perspective. this dense atmospheric fog lingering in the lungs. a steady choking, like we pay for it every time we breathe. like this dagger that stopped the bleeding in my neck. finally. the truth can come out of its ingrown spot. this same realization that ‘father’ is just another word wasted on you in the dictionary.
By h.a.laineabout a year ago in Poets
"no room in the inn"
home never felt so much like home, unless i was home alone in my room, or climbing a tree, or swinging freely to my music in the backyard.
By kpabout a year ago in Poets
Scenery of Society by Rikki La Rouge 🇬🇧 🇨🇦
Julio, every summer you come back and make me relive these tortuous memories. Julio, do you remember the day you almost drowned? I do. Julio, I can't escape your punishment. Julio, I want to know why you cursed me. July, I remember our difficult times before July, when we couldn't start again.
By Revista XCI by Rikki La Rouge about a year ago in Poets
Empathy
Blustery winds, buffeting and blowing, stinging eyes with frigid air, a taste of nature's strength. - A taste evokes feeling
By Alexander Stoddartabout a year ago in Poets