Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Her Songs 55m
It took years
It took years for me to love the color of my skin
To love the hair that grows out of my head
It took years to stop wanting to bleach my skin
To stop wanting to straighten my hair
It took years
To stop wanting to be anything but black
To stop wishing that I was never born.
But somehow, I still achieved it.  
Even in the face of people that are hell-bent on hating us every single day.

I should be doing homework but I can’t focus
It seems like all this work will be for nothing anyway
Like our deathbed is only a day away
I should be studying for finals but I can’t absorb any information
Instead, I am sitting by the door waiting for my dad to come downstairs
Just so I can tell him goodbye and pray that he comes home

I should be planning my future
But instead, I can only focus on the next few hours
Waiting and waiting and waiting
For my dad AND mom to walk through that **** front door.  

Hoping that my brother got home safe as well.  

All because of the color of my skin.
Sienna 10h
America, the land of the free
But not for you
And not for me.
America, where you can dream
In a cell all alone
Because they took the key.
America, the best country
Established with pain
From brown bodies.
America, where you can be
Anything you want
Except a minority.
America, accepting of all
Except the feathered chiefs
Who once stood tall.
America, where you get a call
To hear your black brother
Was seen as nothing at all.
America, where there’s free speech
To protest the Asians
Who are blamed for the heat.
America, where there’s guns and bombs
To get revenge on the “terrorists”
Who were sobbing to Allah.
America, a true mixing ***
And what a place
For children to be shot.
Run. Run. Run
Here they come
The rampant dogs
Ready to rip off
People's skin.

Another ****** forgotten
Another person in their coffin
For just living in their skin
There's no way to win
Against supremacy.

What's next? Another Holocaust?
Another mass-genocide lost
In the media? In history books?
Because if this is how my future looks,
I don't want to live through it.

This is why we must stand up now
Before the dogs and sirens get too loud
We can't travel back in time, not like this
For there is so much good we'll miss
Unless we protest the injustices

Plaguing our society.
I just felt like writing a poem about all the things happening in our society today. Dealing with racism and supremacy.
In the beginning it's all a dream
A dream where all of us are numbers
Number one
Number two
Number three

But then all of a sudden the arithmetic
Comes in, numbers that were "equal" now become "more equal"
Greater than comes in lesser than  comes in ,the equality that was unity yesterday becomes a boundary between the numbers.

Moreso the unknowns on the other side of the equal sign.
Some are on left, some are on right.
far from over on the other side of the equal signs there is (x) and (y) all unknown to the other side of the equal signs
Oh no some numbers become determinant(s)of (x)(y)
The slash sign of Power  separates the numerator and denominator  


Mockery at it's peak ;the equal signs are replaced by greater than or less than.
As if that is not enough
In the second method improper fractions emerge as former numbers become decimals
Graphs of anarchy, imperialism, dictatorship and religious annihilation scatter across the x~axis of humanity and y~axis of ideology

Third method
Proud Rounding up/off begins
Continental Arch's mark the trajectory of division along lines
Shapes of character finally emerge
Assume the value of (x) is that "all this is a dream"
Syntax error; this is no dream

This is reality and remains relevant today
Pure maths is yours dear mathematician!
This cry of anguish is rooted to the cat rat relation with my mathematics teachers ;even when mathematics wasn't my cup of tea it still delivers the painful truth we all know and continues to remain relevant in a modern society that boasts of equality and democracy
Snow flakes fall upon
the black mountains.
   But never mix,
                           segregated.

But where oriental blossom
falls, in the next field
         fruit pickers labour for
                              gangs..


Our words define our morality..
Racism has many words that  are every day vessels for all to use against another, there is no room for racism in a world so woven together but pulled at the seams by the few
Sheila Greene May 19
What I see sickens me
Judged on size
It feels unfair
Skin color, gender,
Ones not as good me
it's so sad to see
Even though this I don't believe
Speak up, no one listens
Your just a kid
What I see, think, feel
Doesn't matter
On no I'm mad
I'm shattered
This isn't how I thought the world was
In one month my view is ruined
Written for my son realizing life isn’t always fair or pretty.
I love only my kind.
But a world of just
your kind would to
monotony consign you.

I celebrate just my kind.
But a world that celebrates
only you, would to the utter
depths of boredom relegate you.

I prefer just my kind.
But the preference of your kind
would your curiosity wear out.

I only recognize my world.
But a world of only you
can never its horizon broaden.

I only relish my own race.
But a world devoid of
other races would be the
most uninteresting.

My race must the entire earth occupy.
But without the 'inferior' races,
how could you 'superiority' claim?

I have a lebensraum for my
race to occupy.
A lebensraum for only you
would geography obliterate.

So let your world be yours,
and let mine be mine.

Your culture and language you
may retain, whilst mine I also
retain,

as we both our diversity
celebrate.
Because diversity is nothing
more than the spice of life.
A poem to racists, bigots, ethnic nationalists and extremists
hiba sajid May 14
Run away from hatred
Before it comes to feast on your heart

Burn your ego
Before it slowly burns you.

Run away from your yourself
Run away until you see only love
Love and hope for all
Love and respect for all.
Anna Dang May 13
The sun glows
the same color
as my skin
as sunflowers
as happiness
but why
does the color of my people
the color that means joy
the same color I'm proud of
be the same reason that
you measure my worth
and the weight isn't in gold
Mau Vang is the color yellow in vietnamese. Its the color of my skin and the same color that makes people look down on me. I don't understand why race, a social construct, is still living in the history we make today.
Next page