March winds
And April showers
Make way for sweet may flowers
Then comes June
A moon and you,

March winds and April showers
Romance will soon be ours
And outdoor paradise
For two
I know they say
I’m not less than in view
But I’m bursting at the seams
Of being told

        What I can be

I'm more than that pretty thing
        hiding in the corner.

When can I state my view?
Decide my own timeline.
Fight as a peer
Instead of a squalid sequel.

I’m more than that pretty thing
        gracing your arm.

When will I be seen for my intelligence?
Be introduced as my accomplishments
Not just someone’s pet.

I’m more than that pretty thing
        reading beside you

These walls are filled with work;
Teeming with the outcomes of edification
Twists and turns in vivid inspiration

I’m filled to the brim
Yet more will emerge

I’m more than that pretty thing
        dancing next to you.

I’m an artist
With a vision all my own

A writer
Spinning words of chaos across a page.

My body can bring forth life
But it’s worth more than that
Yet your say is better than mine?

I’m more than that pretty thing
        sleeping beside you.

Yes, I wear lingerie
But bring those eyes up
It’s not for your viewing pleasure.

I’m more than that pretty thing
        silent in acquiescence.

I need to get out
Before these walls cave in
If I get any more
I won’t claim what to do.

        It can’t take a lifetime
        But I’ll fight one true

I’m more than that pretty thing
        wading through the crowd

That’s the way it needs to be
Time is running few

Running out of walls is not the way I plan to be.

I'm more than that pretty thing
        marching down the street.

I’m that pretty thing
        emerging from the shadows.
I’m that pretty thing
        taking care of others.
I’m that pretty thing
        using those walls.
I’m that pretty thing
        running for a change.
I’m that pretty thing
        awake in passion.
I’m that pretty thing
        screaming to be heard.
I’m that pretty thing
        pushing through the mud.

I’m that pretty thing marching down the street.
A procession of pink lilies
upon a blackened road with
white dots on its surface
For what do they protest?
Dusk and twilight approaching
Everyone is holding a
black candle in its hands
The trees turned down
their blank stare and
lapsed into silence
Someone's playing Chopin's
funeral march on a piano
covered with ivy
It is a requiem mass about
the death of pure beauty
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZY5DBmgC_A
Dylan Dec 2018
STAND AND MARCH
FACE YOUR ABUSER
SHOW HIM YOUR WORTH
SPARE HIM NO PAIN
HE SPARED YOU NONE
/
MARCH BEHIND HER
SHE STANDS TALL
EMPOWERED BY SUPPORT
SHE WILL PREVAIL
THE PATRIARCHY WILL FALL
/
HIS REIGN ENDS SOON
HERS WILL SOON BEGIN
THE ERA OF THE WOMAN
HOW NEEDED IT IS NOW
SHE IS ON THE HORIZON
/
SHE IS THE HORIZON
MARCH BEHIND HER
carole Dec 2018
None of us are free
Until we all are.
And so,
We will march,
We will protest,
We will not back down,
We will not give in.
So hit us,
And cuff us.
Gas us,
and shoot us,
But you cannot stop us,
because this is bigger than me and you,
And as long as we believe,
There is still hope.
ollie Nov 2018
I am running out of time
To figure out what it is I want
I get chills listening to the line
Because I write like I’m running out of time
I’m running out of time
I need to to survive
I am writing every second I’m alive
Shakespeare contributed over two thousand words to the English language
So far I’ve contributed nothing
And I don’t think I ever will
But I’d like to believe history is mine for the rewriting
I want to take a boy wearing shiners to the deli
And teach him to shine his shoes
Youth is supposed to be an individual history
We are turning it into a world history
He will shine his shoes and give the world black eyes on his own
We are a generation built on marching and a reputation for trouble
We are the generation blowing off our homework to plan first walkouts and then our suicides in strokes of pen
The marching is a slow ache
And a channeling of our voices
We are determined to fight back
I was told teenagers are too young to understand true love
A definition still debated
But do you want to know what I think
True love radiates throughout us
It is a fight for our voices to be pushed through
And an affirmative nod
Of all different kinds
True love turns into war in the next ******
The love of my generation is both
It is joining hands with strangers
Because it's still the same cause
I would consider myself an introvert
But there’s a unity in every throat raw from screaming
Every foot sore from marching
Every knuckle white from making a fist
And if you think this is getting old
So are the people making the laws we fight against
We’ll get better at our cursing with time
But our youth brings ethics and creativity
So good luck getting yours back
Brynn S Nov 2018
Open up your doors
The soul of the elder
Rusted keys chirp
Under prints small flutter
Fly into the heavens
Songbird of far
Death until morning
Follow knight’s star
K Balachandran Nov 2018
Night is a cavern,
For pains retreated from war,
To heal and march back!
Makayla Jordan Oct 2018
honestly it feels like to me kids nowadays are being killed by words, perceptions, appearances, by a war being fought in the streets based on these things. we've pitted ourselves against each other because of these intangible yet malleable things and it's hard for me not to wonder when these feelings began. was it in our ancestors during the ice age, fighting for survival. survival. wow. survival
          - r.i.p to all the brothers who have lost their life because of modern day mankind's perception of- survival
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