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Kanishk Kandoi Jun 2020
All the constant protests
And with world also burning
All i could see how the tables were turning

The police continued brutality
They started using sticks
Also started throwing bricks

The state was in a state of chaos
People had to step up the game
All got included with the ones with fame

Amazing results were shown
The state was progressing at all time
With the decrease in number of crime
A poem about the current state of nations and protests in various parts of the world regarding rights and decrease in crime
George Meadows Jun 2020
“From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.”
–William Shakespeare (Prologue to Romeo and Juliet)

I was hewn from the helpless limbs of a tree
Which could have grown
To become something magnificent

Through sanding and carving
Through varnishing and the work of human hands
I was formed

In a way, the tree which was mutilated to give me life
Was a foreshadowing of my truncheon fate

I swing through the air once again
A weapon in the hands of a vehement oppressor

Skin splits
Blood sprays
Bone shatters

Bodies litter the dust
Staining the earth with crimson testament
To the cruelty I have wrought
Some of the figures are marred
Reminiscent of the tree from which I was hewn
Which died to give me life

The dark throng of protestors
Are but mortals
Faced by the immortal power
Of those lighter beings
Who wield me, mercilessly

I wish to weep
For the destruction, pain
Anguish I leave in my wake

I wish I was still a living bough
Capable of shedding resin tears
Capable of yielding to greater forces
Not to force the vulnerable to break

But I cannot weep
I cannot yield

I am a baton
A weapon in the hands of those who swore to protect
Yet scythe down those who rise to protect what is rightfully theirs

Ancient grudge of black and white
Break to new mutiny of segregation
Where civil blood of those who seek protection
Makes civil hands who swore to guard them
Unclean.
In June 1959, the inhabitants of Cato Manor protested the forced removals of the time. The police were sent in and the protests turned violent.
Mitch Prax Jun 2020
This year,
we found angels
and demons,
heroes and cons,
standing upon and
deep beneath
this world.
Gemma Warde Jun 2020
Centuries have passed, people have fought,
Nothing is happening because the wrong teachings are taught.
Voices have spoken, and riots have been arranged,
But still – nothing has seemed to change.

Corruption is seen, through the law and through power,
People are still suffering, climbing the social tower.
We have grown together, all in the same range,
But still – nothing has seemed to change.

People are suffering, no different than they have before
Their dignity is broken, and their lives are at tore.
The brutality is still here, causing infinite pain,
But still – nothing has seemed to change.

The risk of walking outside is something people truly endure,
The actions of opposition are devilish and impure.
There have been millions fighting to end this derange,
But still – nothing has seemed to change.

The cruelty and beliefs of difference have left nothing but war,
We’re ignoring who people are at their core.
There are people begging for the oppressors to get tamed,
But still – nothing has seemed to change.  

The inequality is further preventing justice,
How does authority expect to be trusted.
An everyday battle has formed to abolish the chains,
But still – nothing has seemed to change.

There needs to be unity, not among some, but all,
Together we stand, divided we fall,
Speak out, bring justice, fight together in one lane,
Because there is no more time to not see change.
But the view's fine from here,
they say, all carbon copy cloying concern.

They don't know that the sun doesn't rise
and set quite so exquisitely
when your sky
is on fire.

But the view's from fine here,
they maintain, as unsaid words skulk in the throat.

They don't notice the skin that burns and crackles
and stretches at a breaking point
that's been broken
for years.

But the view's fine from here,
they confirm. And then turn away.

They don't see what shouldn't be seen,
what eyes can't afford to shut
even as glass splinters
edge closer.

And they are right, really,
because their view truly is fine from here.

#BlackLivesMatter i
It's been an indescribable week for the whole world. Watching all the scenes coming out of the US feels like watching a film you can't hit pause on. And I couldn't not write about it. .
First, I wanted to write from the perspective of someone in the riots, someone who's suffering from this appalling inequality. But it didn't feel right. I'm a white woman living in the UK, so this isn't my reality. The reality is that I benefit from my white privilege every day. And the reality is that many, many people in my position, with my privilege simply refuse to fully see what is going on, and don't attempt to empathise with those suffering.
.
I dream of a day we all understand our privilege and use it to help those whose voices are drowned out. #BlackLivesMatter
heat
fog
pity
dread

those masks
don’t hide
your sin
very well

with every inch
of our blood
we crave for
the soft life

the street is bloated
with pus of greed
while fresh wounds seek
the hand of virtue

for the tired, in reparation
for the made, in rumination
for the hurting, in salubrity
for the fallen, in solidarity
written in additive form progression: 1 word, 2 words, 3 words, etc.

for peace in solidarity
Varsha K Dec 2019
Dear democracy,
Are you really there?
Fighters fought for freedom
Now the youth, for their share.

You taught us to be free,
You taught us to put our opinion
But lately you seem like a mere word,
To be used by only a politician.
I live in India, and the recent protests are making me sick. Are we humans or just vote banks?
Anaïs Nov 2019
The twinkling stone
is what becomes most
desired~ A diamond,
a ring, a promise for
eternity~

Rare a love that does not
encompass fears of solitude,
Oh, the drills of society!
How it drills and drills
and drills into us.
How it perfects us and makes
us unflawed~ us, women,
how thankful we should
be for a life in the selfless
abyss.
Fear not, moments of
contained frenzy,
are left unheard~
For we live, trapped,
in an inescapable
labyrinth.
Sarah Sep 2018
My sweet boy
I recall your first step
First word
Your Smiles and cries
The excitement in which you viewed a fly
Such a precious little thing you were
And now you're dead
Laid on a pavement, shot in the head
Eyes wide open, staring at the sky
Perhaps for one last time, you're searching for that fly.
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