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what makes you think
as a cisgender human
you have any right
to dictate how others live
how they were born?
their skin colour isn't a choice
neither is their gender
so why ****** them for being different?
in memory of the almost 400 black trans women who have been murdered this year.
Madeleine Apr 8
My daughter
I am so proud of you
Never forget that
Masha Yurkevich Dec 2018
There is a moment
in my life,
that I will never forget.
It was the moment,
that you
and
I met.
Grace Nov 2018
Sight of eyes
Overlapping mine
Maybe destiny or
Even fate
Together we had an
Instant connection
My heart pounced with
Elevated emotion
So much
Wondrous love
Everlasting
Happiness spread
Around like a
Virus never
Ending together
That is love
Or maybe
Love is when
Even when you want
Them to stay they
Go up
abOve the clouds
But never forgot
United
Their memories
Never leaving them
Over your form
They watch
Forever until you go
Over that
bRoken bridge
Granted to spend
Eternal life
Together again
Sometimes We Have To Let Go, But Never Forget.
Look closely.
let them be heard from beyond the grave,
let them tell the stories of everyone
ravished and burned
buried alongside the evils the ignorant and privileged
threw six feet below this blood-soiled land
while the fool who granted himself
the glory, the honor, the memory that will never be rightfully his,
lies peacefully in a sacred place

do not silence them if they shake the streets with rage
do not shame them if they burn the metro with blinding fury
this is the least we can do, we cannot simply contain the memory
of every homes extinguished into grey smoke,
of every dungeons that turned into homes,
of every child that only had hunger and violence
for teachers rather than their parents,
of every girl that was marked against her will,
of every iron fist that instilled fear,
of every every bullet fired onwards from that day
of the humanity that ceased to be

let the people fight for the yesteryears,
let it be known that the deeds of the devil will never be forgotten
let it be heard that for as long as we draw breath,
he will be condemned back to hell,he will pay for his crimes
and along with him are those that do not speak their minds,
that choose to remain foolishly blind,
that do not sympathise,
let them all be reminded:
history cannot be changed, only remembered
and if bound to be repeated, will be fought like hell because the Filipino may fall but never bend, may falter but never break, may stand in front of the edge, but with crimson-soaked cheeks and wounded fists,
we will take with us to the death, our oath: never forget. --W
today marks the day that a dictator led our country to hell and we will not remain silenced for he deserves topay for his crimes along with everyone who thinks otherwide
I pray for thousands of innocents
Who died because of 19 sinners
I wished for the wandering souls in earth
To be accepted on the side of our Creator

Bless the souls who died in Pentagon
Bless the souls who died in World Trade Center
Bless the souls of the hijacked aircraft's passengers
So they will rejoice, in the Land Of Promised

For the ones that lost their family, friends or their siblings
I want you guys to think positive and keep smiling
Because of that incident
They could enjoy their new lifes in Heaven
The place where pain never exist
And known as it's Holy
The place where our heart will never resist
To enjoy the eternal life and live happily

Rest In Peace
And you all will be missed
I hope this type of incident will never happen again. Let us never forget the incident happened 17 years ago.
Brian McDonagh Sep 2018
I have no memory of it,
Yet I know of the history that befell the United States,
Seventeen years ago this year.
Smoke...
Planes...
Panic...
Death...
Rescue...
These are what leave us speechless
Yet have made America more aware.
May we remain vigilant not for attacks,
But vigilant when we see those lost again.
Never forget.  9/11
Emily Aug 2018
I'm standing here
Looking in the mirror
Running my bleeding hands over the glass
Feeling every slice and every ****
And looking back at me
If the little girl I used to be
She says what have you done to me
You have killed and buried me
I see in her eyes who I used to be
When I was the captain of that cheer team
Being that beautiful girl I was never meant to be
But behind her I see the demon
That came over me
That ripped me to shreds and
Pulled me into the rivers of blood and dread
The scars that cover me from the fights
The demons have broken my wings
And thrown me to the depths
But they forgot I have claws
So I'm climbing from the depths
I'm fighting for her
The girl thrown to the curb
I sing for her
I fight for her
I bleed for her
So I take one last look into the mirror
And destroy it that girl was fought her war
Now I will fight mine
Cloud Aug 2018
Panic.
The final sound of the door being locked from outside.
Mothers crying for children. Children crying for Mothers.
Hundreds of people shoving you into corners trying to reach loved ones.
A young boy falls to the floor, the mother watches him being trampled, unable to move, unable to breathe.
My lungs are screaming for air.
Where? Why?

Fear.
Stumbling into an unknown darkness.
The fear of falling asleep and never waking up.
Contemplating whether death is better than this.
The terrifying crack of a shotgun.
A silence howling with anxiety.
The beating of the engine counting down minutes perfectly synchronised with my heart.
The lady next to me has her eyes closed, I shake her, silently praying for her to be asleep, she doesn’t stir.

Despair.
I’ve lost track of time, two days, three days, a never ending eternity?
Death surrounds me, trying to pull me in to envelop me, it’s so hard to fight, so easy to welcome.
I am surrounded by people, but have never felt so alone.
We are running on animal instincts, whatever food we have we don’t share.
On this train, good morals ****.

Agony.
The heat, the stifling heat. It is dizzying, nauseating.
The air is too thick to breathe, to live.
There is an overpowering stench, caused by the heat, the absence of a toilet and death.
There is not much space, but what space there is, is filled by a suffocating heat, a choking smell and burning grief.
Pain is soaring through my veins, a toxic predator pouncing on every fibre of hope in my exhausted body.

Embarrassment.
They have reduced us to animals.
I am embarrassed, embarrassed of my hygiene, embarrassed of my inability to do anything, embarrassed of my selfishness.
Embarrassment is no worse than ******, as when a person is embarrassed they wish to be dead.
It is emotional homicide.

Exhaustion.
I am so tired.
My body is crumpled, being held up by others, some dead, some wishing to be dead.
At first I was focused on surviving, my body was fighting, but now I’m too tired to fight.
My hunger is now just a numb aching, but my thirst seems to be pounding every cell in my body, a constant beating.
I am tired of crying, tired of praying, tired of hearing other people’s cries, tired of hearing other people’s prayers.

Hope.
I hear a voice, singing.
A mother to her child.
The sweet sound of her voice seems to dissolve the clouds of pain and misery hanging over us.
Another voice joins in, a man’s voice.
Two more people join in; gradually the whole carriage starts to sing, united.
I join in grasping for the shreds of energy I didn’t think I had.
We sing louder and louder, our voices drown out the protesting orders to stop.
The train slows to a stop, and the doors slide open.
I breathe, and for the first time in too long, my lungs are satisfied with the oxygen that reaches them.
As our bodies rush out of the carriage, still singing, I am filled with a new sense of hope that whatever is coming next couldn’t possibly be worse than what I’d just been through.
Could it?
During the Holocaust cattle trains were used for mass deportation of Jews and other victims of the Holocaust to concentration camps. Men, women and children were stuffed into these carriages with no food, water or toilet and just a small barred window. The journeys took days, sometimes weeks and a large number of people didn't survive the journey. Having survived the journey the victims would then either be immediately taken to a gas chamber and brutally murdered or forced to work under the harshest conditions imaginable where they were unlikely to survive. Having visited a number of the concentration camps in Poland and heard accounts of survivors, I wanted to try and capture a fraction of the pain those people endured in that journey full of doubts and questions.
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