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Through my own tyrannical enforcement
I spew insipid scripted statements
I do not support nor enjoy.
Afraid to be aberrant
Oppressed I am pushed to lecture repugnant contradictions against my own disposition.
Turgid loathing of the fear of dropping the expected facade
Supported by ego and enforced by group-think to mold a homogenous majority.
I hate self pity.
Here marinating in my own self indulgent sorrow.
I am a hypocrite.
Another one of my enemies.
But weakened by forcing myself to state the opposite of what I value,
I open myself to further self destruction.
Through this introspection I might be able to reclaim my social autonomy.
Possibly at the cost of diminution of social impression.
That is held at such divine standards today.
I might become a social martyr.
But at least I’d die complete and confident in my own voice.
It would open me to ridicule.
But I’d rather understand myself and be subjected to hate than to live objectively in a self confined contrived reality.
Mary Mar 9
You’re loud and you’re rude
   and you embarrass me
I quietly put up with it

You demean me and you
   hurt my feelings
Yet I quietly put up with it

You raise your fists
   in anger at me
And I withdraw in fear

And pray for the day
   when I will have the strength
to stop being so quiet
Eloise Rose Mar 6
We are supposed to express whatever lies deep with In this chest
But as soon as it get too much
It’s end is abrupt
And it is hushed
And it is shoved
Back into the recess of depression
Of which it was born
Of which oppression
Will finally adorn
Us who’ve been silenced
Us who mourn
Charlie's Web Feb 13
An open letter to my mothers boyfriend,

When you blame millennials for the current state of our nation, you are disregarding the environment we've learn to survive in. Cookies hanging over our heads, blindly following the sound of people celebrating empty dreams. Dreams recited by our fathers.  I am not trying to place blame on you, as I know you too have been infected by these unspoken rules. You too had a cookie hanging over your head. But I want you to know that our cookies just look different. As time passes recipes’ recalibrate and cookies transform. And I feel for you, maybe you’re still chasing the cookie, maybe it’s getting harder to chase, or maybe you ate the cookie and still felt hungry. But if we really want to have this conversation, about the current state of our nation, I’m gonna need for you to stop talking about cell phones and 20 something year olds and start talking about where these cookies came from!
Mohith Feb 10
When the grey shades creeps
I fly , fly high
I never see the leaves fallen apart,
The dwindling light.
I just fly, high and above
To the zenith.
EJ Lee Jan 8
I feel as though I am walking on eggshells
I am surrounded by people who
Pride themselves in tolerance and diversity
Voicing their opinions loud and clear
Walking on eggshells
My opinions and views differs from them
As it does not align with theirs
Holding my tongue to
Avoid confrontations
I want to speak my mind
So I can stand up for myself
But I stay silenced
Walking on eggshells
Narrowly avoiding certain subjects
For fear of being treated horribly
I want to make friends
That accepts me
Respects my opinions
Walking on eggshells
I feel oppressed and afraid
In my community
Trying to survive
A community of that is not
As tolerant as they preach
I am walking on eggshells
Trying to avoid being called names that
Are not true
I don’t feel safe
While everyone else has
Their safe space
For two years I’ll be
Walking on eggshells
7/2018
EJ Lee Jan 8
We exist
Our voices may be small
But we exist
Our art might not be political
But we exist
We might not be controversial
But we exist
Our opinions might be ignored
But we exist
11/2018
We, the voice of the most oppressed,
Work in the profession remaining the most humble,
Throughout histories, as slaves our lives still remain tumble,
With our strangled necks, we are deliberately suppressed

For the centuries, our voices remain unheard,
Like a weeping fish at the sea,
We are treated zombies at the rush of a blood,
Collecting by hand, the human society’s poops & pea

Things for us got intensely worse,
We work as a group with an isolated curse,
For our livelihood, go into manholes as bare-bodies
Mostly get out as dead-bodies

From pathology to oncology,
We are treated untouchables, even by the modern technology
We are the oxygen-offering trees that remain green
Hurting ourselves, collecting excreta making this world neat &clean

With our hand-cuffs we shout and fight,
Rulers remain drunken-deafs to our plight,
**** with your knowledge, to those who go to college
And keep pushing us to the drainage,
We remain living dead and frustrated, to get our right

When asked about work, we remain dumb and blind,
Fearing the responses to our ***** revelations,
Because humans are unemphathetic and unkind
To get our life some elevations.

Our mind said us “Please think! Please Think!”
When we revolt not to work, societies stink,
We warn, Witness your locality *****,
To our sufferings, if you keep blank & empty.

We are a collective voice,
Representing inhuman humanity,
That keeps the society on a poise,
So raise your voice, with a clarity of choice
To get us work with the utmost dignity!
Manual scavengers is a decent term. People who collect human and animal excreta on bare hands are the manual scavengers. The quality of these people in the south-east Asian countries like India remain pathetic. Their voices are often neglected and ignored by the rulers. They remain struck in a state of vicious circle, where poverty and untouchability keeps chasing them continuously and push them towards this work. This poem is a pain of the masses that had been engaged in manual scavenging for centuries immemorial that continues unlikely, till the present day. Rulers don’t offer the mandatory occupational standards and technological support to the manual scavengers. The motive of this poem is to voice their concerns to help them work peacefully and offer them a dignified life. This poem is written in the style of a ballad.
Denise Uy Sep 2018
how can such hollow words fool you?
how can you not see from your point of view?
you let them pluck you like a fragile lute,
you let them **** on you as if you were the ground.
stop letting them smell you as if you were foul.
just fight back and start with a growl.

don't let them move you around in a chess game.
let their every advance not allow your mind to sway.
you could be losing but don't toss the board yet.
stay even when all seems to go downhill,
stay and don't let your losses shake your will.
just fight back, break yourself free, and live with thrill.

roar even when they can barely hear
and know that they're not the ones to fear.
do what it takes to amplify your lion heart.
you can borrow my light to see through the dark.
aim carefully like you were shooting darts.
just fight back, shield your person, and make your mark.
learn to listen and stand your ground. g'night mga doi
S Hyndman Jul 2018
i'm surrounded by familiar faces
some are warm, some are cold
all with love for me
yet i still feel so alone


i usually wear a mask
i hide behind my smile,
my jokes and my childishness
but my shadow reveals
the true pain and sorrow i contain
for it is filled with nothing but darkness
the first smile i force out everyday
screams for help, freedom, solace
but i hide it so well, no one seems to notice


i want be seen and heard
with the respect and love i truly deserve
i wish i didn't have to hide who i am
a colored spirit without limits nor end
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