There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
A gift or a curse- What is this acronym? I myself lean towards the former, and dare I describe it as forsaken. I'm sorry to say...
By JMabout a year ago in Poets
Two winters back, my father passed away, we all navigated grief, but the wife, my mother, who spent five decades, with the man,
By Seema Patelabout a year ago in Poets
Deep inside the walls where man goes to suffer Our poor and wretched souls have no escape from pain The howls of the dammed ring in the ears of all who enter
By Jason Mortonabout a year ago in Poets
They said it was madness, when my voice stopped folding, my edges now razor tipped. I stopped nodding like a daisy in a room full of battleaxes,
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
Years back, I had the privilege of visiting this stunning place, Lake Tahoe. It was spring, but I remember the chilly wind.
That’s my little daughter, now months away from turning six, but in that above photo, she was just two years and nine months.
Earth’s Frozen Tears: A Wake-Up Call Written in Melting Ice. In northern silence, where white winds roam, Lies Earth’s pale sorrow, its ice-bound home.
By Jacky Kapadiaabout a year ago in Poets
Never trouble trouble till trouble troubles you... ...unless you are a troublesome person. * You are a loyal friend... ...until you matter to no one.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Poets
I can now be that girl Where the others will sit in my lap And let me play with their hair. I can now comment on my friend's fishtail braid
By Ruby Redabout a year ago in Poets
Tell me the truth—- ‘Are you glad that I exist? Yeah? Are you afraid of me? No? Am I really a burden? a coward? a cursed?
By Meghan LeVaughn about a year ago in Poets
Power in the Wrong Hands They speak of peace with lies in tongues while oiling wheels of loaded guns their fingers twitch on coded keys
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Pit ter-patter, the rai n. mirrored the p ai n. of All en's short, un eventful 22 years. rain he no lon ger hear
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
