Step up to the mic and strike first with a smile of one liners, with observations or tales that beguile them.
For a smile will disable them while your lines slide in behind them, almost whispering, selecting the sharp-soft phrases that will best penetrate those guarded places. Looking with innocence into their faces, turning minds stage by stages, persuading with insights, with stories of real life, with familiar tales of familiar strife. Then when you follow through and strike with the punch line they have no defence and have no time to decline the good sense found in this food for thought, laughing to a sudden realised stop, looking again at their lives, with a furtive smile of dawning delight at the shed light on shared lives found in your soft amplified lines.
- Do it right when you step up to the mic and you just might change lives.
With thanks to Poetical Word, Hounslow London for open mic nights.
Don’t wear leggings
Or a shirt that shows your cleavage
Because you need to be covered up
You’re a distraction
Don’t use your period as an excuse
For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom
Because you’re not fooling anybody
Don’t shave your head
You can’t and don’t
And won’t because we’ll suspend you
Watch the length of your skirt
The colour of your hair
The shoes and makeup
And they call that fair
Come to us if something is wrong
if you’re feeling bullied
if you feel unsafe
I guess they don’t remember asking my friend and I
if we heard of anyone in our year with suicidal tendencies
They asked us because
We were the sensible ones
The bright ones
We couldn't have been depressed.
I guess they didn’t see my panic
and my hand squeezing my wrist.
Is not a place
Where you can express who you are
School is not the place where you feel safe
It's a battle ground on the outside of your comfort zone.
School isn’t about education
Its a challenge, competition
Its a measurement of your capabilities
But what if you don't excel?
You’re called out for not being good enough
You're humiliated. Mocked.
You get looked down on
And you don’t get your
As if a degree explains who you are
What you’ve been through
How much you’re worth
As if a degree
Measures the capacity
Of your heart
And your knowledge
And a teacher can share your grade
Make a joke and smirk
Cause they think you’re not worth it
And they can laugh and yell and call your parents
Who don’t think you’re any better.
Because year after year they’ve been led to believe
that you’re easily distracted
that you don’t do what you’re told
that you’re rebellious
Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy
That you can't help but notice,
They still won’t understand that you're just fighting
for what you believe is right, for mutual respect.
Because that’s not what you were thought.
You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak.
And even if you made a valid point
You would still get lectured on putting your hand up when you want to speak.
Discipline put first.
**And that is my definition of school
there are million of words
left unsaid inside this gut.
similar to every volcanoes,
there will be
for this gut(ter) to blow up,
burst of processed thoughts
that kept inside for yearlong.
whether you like it or not,
give a **** or not,
ain't no **** were given
'cause it's about the time.
The rain wasnt just a metaphor for the tears streaming down my cheeks today, it was reality.
Although, It was literally down pouring rain all day long.
While thunder and lightning were crashing and flashing in the sky,
Thunder and lightning were building up of me on the inside.
I don't wanna talk about it no, I'm fine I'm all right.
Then I close my door and just let myself cry.
They don't know what it feels like.
To be all alone and have no one to confide.
I can't seem to shake off the things that are said anymore.
But if it doesn't change soon I won't want to get out of bed anymore.
Baby, toddler, child, teen, adult
It doesnt matter, any of us can be victims of this type of assault.
Bullying doesnt just happen when you are young.
You just hope by the time you've grown up, that course has been run.
One more time and I will really lose it.
I was given a mouth to speak, I think it's about time I use it.
Everyone seems to be complaining we ain't doing sh*t.
But when we step up, you say we're too young for it.
Treating us like we don’t know the issues.
Acting like it isn't all over the news.
We're all living in a world that's trying to silence our voices.
People looking at us sideways when we're making bold choices.
Choosing to speak on all the topics people stray away from.
Got suicide, addiction, shootings, depression, sickness, and some.
All of us becoming way too familiar with all this loss.
Accepting it's a part of life, not giving it any thoughts.
It's time to stop saying we're too young for this.
This is something you really don't want to miss.
The fact is: it takes more than one.
So shut your mouth and get things done.
I talk to the world
May they hear my heart
I cry out my protests
May they know my problems
My words. Where are they?
It was in that moment when I couldn’t walk outside wearing shorts that I knew society was ****** up
It was in the moment that my shirt that hung off my shoulders meant that I wanted to have *** that I knew society was ****** up
Because we’re built on grounds that say if you’re still a ****** you’re dull and boring and if you’re not, you’re a ***** in waiting
We’re built on grounds that call girls ****** and ***** if they don’t give it up we’re built on grounds where we make girls feels worthless because they say no
It was in the moment that your hands trailed my skin in a sin that I knew society was ****** up and when I told someone how your evil hands played me like a toy that it was automatically my fault because my shirt was too low and all my makeup basically said I was asking for it. But the difference between you and I was that I saw my body as a temple and you turned my temple into a sinful pool so the second time your hands wanted to play tag with my body I didn’t say anything my unresponsive language was enough to make you think I said yes because I was petrified by your greasy grimy hands that I froze and when I tried telling my mom she said guys will be guys and that I needed to move on so when you came back for the third time I didn’t scream or shout I didn’t try to fight back I thought guys will be guys and I need to move on.
It's not OKay :
To let people run over you like its a normal thing to do.
To overthink everything and trouble yourself.
To keep thinking about how others react to your response.
To let anyone control your life.
To keep waiting for love and feel miserable because you don't have one.
To keep all your emotions bottled up but there's always someone who cares.
To cry yourself to sleep every night.
To get hurt but not say anything, to avoid conflict.
To not to state your opinions because no one cares.
To feel depressed but not say.
To have that tired feeling all day long and getting it worse in the night.
To wake up every morning and feel disappointed because you didn't die last night.
To be scared of this world and "what's" out there.
To want to fall in love but being scared to ever trust anyone.
To wish to not to live anymore.
To write this all, but never follow it.
— The End —