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Aaron Beedle May 8
Two minutes, we sacrifice.
The value of a human life.
Not to work two minutes harder,
or push ourselves 2 minutes further.

Not enough to contemplate
the pain and fear, the spite and hate.
Not 2 minutes to reparate,
our broken world, our shattered people.
The ones we left, who've grown so feeble.

We give 2 minutes for those who died.
Who died in wars so many times.
War and again, over and over,
and louder, the silence,
and longer, the violence,
so dilute in its gunfire and sirens.

Silence, 2 minutes, for those who died.
Yet silence eternal, for those deprived,
of human rights, and chance to live,
If only 2 minutes were all we'd give.
About: I want people to have to think about the meaning of this one, rather than telling them outright like I usually do.
Mia J May 8
In the wrong hands
You could be used
In the right hands
You could be handled
I struggle with you
You’re so close
But yet so far out of reach
They talk about how good you are
But I can’t trust you
Even though, you being yourself is completely harmless
Let’s imagine you weren’t
If I could embrace you
I’d use you with care
My dome wouldn’t multiply because of you
I’d think wisely with you
I’d make careful decisions and plans with you
However, I’m not that thirsty for you
I don’t need your credibility
Because deep down
I have all the flavor I need
4/24/2018
-Mia J

© 2018 Mia J
This poem was composed in 2018
I've been taking down the giants in my
life                                                             ­             
                                                   ­                                                             
Lining them all up without thinking
twice                                                            ­
                                                                ­                                                      
I'm so tired of bending for everyone
else,                                                        
   ­                                                                 ­                                                    
it's time for me to raise a little bit of
hell                                                             ­ 
                                                                ­                                                
Trying to breathe life into my
brokeness,                                                       ­   
                                                             ­                                                    
getting all the negativity off my
chest                                                            ­          
                                                      ­                                                                 ­ 
  I won't be bullied into changing my
mind,                                                        
   ­                                                                 ­                                          
every dog gets his day & I 'm taking
mine                                                            ­                                                    
            ­                                                                 ­                                           
You can't guilt me into thinking like
you                                                          
   ­                                                                 ­                                                    
I don't care if you don't like the
truth                                                            ­                
                                                                ­                                              
That's the first thing that you should
see,                                                             ­     
                                                                ­                                                  
this isn't about you, it's all about
me                                                              
                                                                ­                                                        
I found out something can you guess
what?                                                      
     ­                                                                 ­                                            
My opinion matters, so keep your mouth shut
Ahmed Gamel Apr 21
We are not born with fire—
we choose it.
In the silence of doubt,
in the ache of waking pain,
we reach for a flame
that doesn’t burn,
but builds.

Some of us burn
not to destroy,
but to light paths
no one dared walk before.
We carve names into time
with trembling hands
and unwavering hearts.

Creation is not in limbs,
but in vision.
In the breath that shapes words,
in the mind that dares to dream
even as the body folds.

But even fire,
no matter how bright,
must one day soften
into ember.
Even warriors
deserve a gentle sunset.

So when peace calls your name—
when stillness becomes the goal,
not the obstacle—
may you rest with pride,
not regret.

For the world remembers
those who chose to live
with courage,
to create in the dark,
to love in the storm.

And to my friend,
who walks with wisdom and weight,
know this:

You are not fading.
You are finishing—
and every step leaves warmth behind.
This poem is dedicated to a man whose honesty lit something in me. It's for anyone facing the weight of time, illness, or doubt—and still choosing to speak, to create, to feel. This is about the fire we carry, the peace we seek, and the love that binds it all together in the end. Much respect, always.
Eme Apr 9
I'm not rejecting you I just don't want to be made small anymore.
There's things you kept hidden from yourself and I'm seeing it for what it is.
I'm not against you but I know I can't do the work you need to do for yourself.
It's never been about not accepting you it's that I had to shrink myself to fit what u wanted and I can't do that anymore

You already have your gifts and strengths.
If you feel good it's an illusion because I've told u I've been neglected and I can't do it anymore.
It's not enough
Saying good bye to what I’ve known
No mess is fantastic
Lack of respect leads to war
War is horrific, evil and poor
Racism is not chic
Modern slavery is painful
Hate is awful, hurtful and plentiful
There is no justice
They don’t really want peace
Hypocrisy is ubiquitous
Supremacy is senseless
Discrimination is tasteless
Their audacity is obvious
Corruption is rampant
And the economy decadent
This is absolute chaos
The whole thing is a mess
Less than nothing: worthless
Death shall come. Alas
At last to change the formula
That’s karma
Nothing is eternal
Power is ephemeral
Tomorrow is a song
Belonging to no one
I know I’m not wrong
I am addressing everyone
I am talking to the crowd
Without being too loud
Long live Respect and Peace!
Long live Love and Justice!

Copyright © March 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Last night,
I saw a Man I once respected,
Doing something very wrong.
Now he is Just a Man,
A Man I once Respected.
Em Mar 8
I will never
hide
my story.
perhaps
a warning,
or a precaution of what not
to do.
but frankly,
I wouldn’t change much.
It really did make me stronger.
allowed me more empathy,
let me see
into a little
bit of horror
others go through.

don’t you dare
judge scars,
be grateful
you’ve been
trusted
with their
story.
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