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Elliott Jun 2017
A new Renaissance
has started,
they one we made
through conversation and fate.

My masculinity mixes
with your femininity,

and just for a little bit,
we forget
that the world was built
to destroy people like us.
Opps, someone unleashed my inner thoughts
Jobeth Bufi May 2017
Ten, twenty, thirty two, I want to play a game with you,
Hide and seek, you may not peek,
Hello, this is your pursuer,
The game is over,
Yet I will follow, and see you cower,
Admire you more, just like a flower,
Weep, weep little girl,
You are my little pearl,
A prized possession that is true,
The demon deep inside of you
Colzz MacDonald Apr 2017
I conclude that I hate the world today
Everything people are and what they say
They speak no kind words by gesture or sound
There is no common decency around
People are not nice like they were before
I hate that there's no respect anymore
We are seriously lacking dignity
To a human race no affinity
We're all offended or aggravated
Whilst we act so cold and calculated
There's very few out there who won't pretend
Everyone's an enemy to a friend
We are ultimately in regression
Forcing ourselves into an oppression
Like we've gone back to the days of the cave
Not so the Stone Age ways should we enslave
Is it all about tearing someone apart?
Does anyone have love left in their heart?
Don't mean to be unkind
But if you wouldn't mind
I'd like to step off the planet now please
We are giving such little guarantees
I will take you with me
If you would like to see
An end to this ****** scrutinising show
Time to leave ~ to somewhere *only we know
Anyone have a TARDIS laying around they're not using at all? I was told to ask for The Doctor?
AE Mar 2017
When they saw her walking on the streets,
They saw oppression, dehumanization, and inequality.
Whilst they oppressed her with their vision
She wore her cape of grace, her drapes of black chiffon
Which also covered her face
free from all the judgment regarding beauty and ideals

the world was threatened by her walk
Although her posture was humble
She still walked with queen like grace
For she was super women and her Abaya was her cape
Her Niqaab was her shield form the worlds disgrace
And her Hijab was the crown she wore with all her grace
And she was a true woman
A woman oppressed not by her faith
But by society's obligations
She IS a woman empowered,
Empowered by her faith.
Mr Trismegistus Mar 2017
Private prisons, a brand new cup;
Now some reasons to fill 'em up.

When the prison is a profitable place,
Slaves'll be marched to fill the space.
hayley robertson Mar 2017
it's a strange occurrence
hearing sirens pulsate through the rough brick walls of the silent still sanctuary on sunday mornings
every sunday morning for as long as i can remember

the service doesn't stop and the sermon doesn't stop
but i can't help but wonder what would happen if they did
what would happen if we stopped worrying about our lives and started worrying about theirs - those who have been affected by that shrill call
every sunday morning for as long as i can remember

why is it that we receive the honor of being safe inside when there are people suffering outside
how do we say a prayer for healing but go about our daily lives not thinking about what we hear right outside our windows
every sunday morning for as long as i can remember

perhaps some people do let the sound interrupt their routine thoughts
are those the lucky few who are called angels?
it shouldn't be their job to save the world
if we let the warning resonate through our minds and not just through the rough brick walls then maybe sirens wouldn't be heard
every sunday morning for as long as i can remember
Samantha Jan 2017
We build walls of insecurities out of sand.
Mixed with the grains of every desire wanted.
This child shoveling sand with plastic heart beats, & hollow rhythms, attempts to utter a Simple hello.
Hello, to the true Human condition.
This hello is not what I want.
But the dream, a pixelated picture, not yet complete, floats along bending rivers of doubt, & opportunity. Longing to become whole..
To become whole with the freedom, I deserve.
Yet my anxieties beckon me.
My elders of the court, surrounding, judgement passing, of what true pain means.
Are we all not children?
Discovering that our roots were slowly embedded with and from the Scorned children, before us.
By our oppressions and automated systems, that have created the demons in our closets, & The monsters underneath our beds.
Awaiting for the Court, to hand us our fates..
These Elders, watch my aspirated expression, turning me blue with Rage.
"Don't speak out.
For the Foundation of this Very Court, was built on the Silence of Hushed lambs."
The surrender to appointed Society, has tainted the Fine woven threads of our wool, giving no Remorse for the Unfed child's belly.
An insatiable hunger to scream, "We have a voice!!"
We are a stairway of Bodies, rising our Oppressors, higher than our own souls.
Though we should fly freely among those un-chained,
We are a whisper, fighting against the forceful winds, who claimed Democracy.
If we are equals, why must we not Speak?
Why In a Valley littered with deaf ears, and blind hearts, can we only hear our elders sing...
With liberty, and Justice for all.
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