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memoona kazmi Mar 2019
behind every successful woman,
is  a little confidence and a heartbreak that changed her outlook on the world....
Viola Dec 2015
Could have been moses in a basket
But it was a tiny syrian refugee who found no recipie washed apon the shore put in a casket with the hope he bore
No one blew a gasket
As they shunned them at bay
No justice for us
Who have no choice but to participate in the childish games mad men play
Kids in factories make toy guns for your sons so they'll grow up to fight a war for greedy men who will always want more
And we wave the red, white, and blue.
Don't tread on me. These colors dont run, they're tried and true. These colors don't run, they don't blend, the blood of the native American ran red, when the white pilgrim came, and then they took people with darker skin took them brought them from where they called home, skinned them of freedom and beat them black and blue never leaving them alone. These colors don't run. They bleed they're stained. Lady liberty greets all with her feet still chained, anchored by distain for her light does not put the night to shame, for the darkness is to great for the history and fate of the hate that our country creates but we remain indignant that the immigrants will destroy the reminants of the american dream. Wake up, things are not all as they seem, we're complacent within our placement at the top of the hierarchy but really we are at the bottom of a very complex conglomeration of an oligarchy
There is no way to rationalize with those who disguise corporate fascism as democracy. The hypocrisy and the lies.
Everything we do is for them to capitalize on
We are but used as simple pon.
But I hope a revolution might bring a new dawn.
We must unite to agree not to fight
To not let unruly hate and greed surpass love and need.
Then only then do I truly believe will we all be freed at last.


Marilyn  Sep 2020
Unknown recipie
Marilyn Sep 2020
My kitchen is lost of rosemary scent
There is no lemon left to cleanse your tongue of my flesh
Sweet fruit has left a bitter breath
When did your stomach have its fill of me?

I have been devoured by you before
But it looks nothing like me in your mirror
A reflection arguing against my digestion
I lay still as you consumed my suggestion

I think you may have misunderstood me when I said
"You are what you eat"
My flavour was not yours to beat me with
Hammad Oct 2020
Giving up is a luxury success can't afford.

— The End —