There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
The Squirrel The squirrel watched me from the fence. I had offended the whole species. His tiny hands clutched a nut.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Mirror mirror before me stand tall Tell me how my words mean nothing at all I stare you in agony screaming from the soul Complaints of words in forms you think I don’t know
By Cadmaabout a year ago in Poets
I'm at the Craft bar staring at Fixed Wheel. The bartender glares, he wants something, but I'm not giving it. Not yet.
By Sun Beeabout a year ago in Poets
At One With Nature The wind smells like wet grass, rain from yesterday, I walk barefoot, mud squishing between toes, why wear shoes,
I’m alone, and I’m talking to myself Because with me I don’t need to be Someone else The mirror cracks and fades Because I’m ashamed of that reflection
By Raine Fielderabout a year ago in Poets
dirty fingernails shook as they struggled to tie bloody boot laces
He Never Stops Watching Me He never stops watching me his stare bends through walls it clings to the floorboards it seeps
It will always be raining and they will always arrive at the stop just three seconds too late and the demon drivers will smirk as they pull off
By TheSpinstress about a year ago in Poets
A Window in Rain Rain begins with a whisper. Soft on the glass, a secret. Then it gathers, heavy, endless. Each drop slides down in haste.
what do you see? a boy, a man, androgyne? he-she, what-she, who-is-she? too masculine, muscular, brash bitch in your face
By TEIYAabout a year ago in Poets
Does everyone dream the same Do you wander where I wander, when the night closes in. Do lost faces return, do forgotten voices call,
Free speech, blah, blah, blah. It’s become a tedious slogan. It usually only means, “I don’t want to listen to anything I don’t want
By William Alfredabout a year ago in Poets
