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if heart cells have formed
you take away our rights
you take control of our bodies
though what’s inside
is smaller than a grain of rice

neglected by the ones
who claim they’re pro life
they must be mistaken
there’s no sympathy in sight

to **** with the poor
and those seeking asylum
to **** with healthcare
that’s not a god given right
and to the lives taken
at the hands of a gun
thoughts and prayers to you
i’ll continue to have my fun

why don’t you say it to our face
we mean nothing to you
you simply love control
but that, we already knew
It is a rainy night,
with the dark clouds covering the moon.
The stars fall,
so do the rest of the unknown lights in the sky.
Rings of the distant churches’ bells heard.
Owls, bats, black vultures sound,
so do the hungry wolves around the lightless downtown.

A barefoot little girl,
with unironed clothes for weeks,
beside a bakery, sits.
Her long hair untied and wetted from rain.
She awaits for the dawn,
flipping through her simple wishes like a book,
under the lightening and the thunders.
But it needs hours and hours to arrive.

Families leave the theatre in front of her,
happy and smiling.
They just finished watching a humanitarian film.
Their cars’ lights reflect in her eyes full of tears,
which are not dried yet until the dawn appears.

Stores closed all around her.
Passersby look at her and deny.
Kids looking through the car windows,
ask their parents about her.
They, too, deny so their kids do not have nightmares while asleep.

The girl just awaits the dawn,
having few dreams, hopes and some pain.
She awaits the dawn,
hopefully, her dead parents appear, again!

Mohammed Arafat
Unlike other kids having their parents alive, some are not heard, and they wait for the dawn hoping their dreams come true.
A young and beautiful, but wretched soul,
Dreamt in an enchanted world of her own,
With enraptured stallions and unicorns,
Far away from the brutal world so widely known,
But little did she know, the doom of her fantasy land is close.

Long was the string of her heartfelt desires,
She wanted to gaze at the infinite stars,
And eagerly waited to whoosh to Mars,
Away from negativities and deep scars,
But little did she know, she'd always be on the radar.

Incessant lookouts for an escape,
Made her wearied, sick and frail,
It was then that the realisation kicked her brain,
For what is she suffering so much pain?
For a world that is best at growing only wolf's bane?

After a month of Sundays, time finally chipped in,
When she could take the world out for a spin,
To vanquish the conventionality like a fiery levin,
Now was the time to declare that she won't take it on the chin,
And little did the world know of its approaching ruin.

Prepared to confront the imposed tyranny one-on-one,
She took it by surprise like a curve ball,
Then the insurgence began bold and tall,
"Why are women objectified as puppet dolls?
Why do taboos exist only for womenfolk?"

Appalled by her fearless defiance,
The world warned her against such resistance,
And swore to banish her existence,
The girl merely snorted and said "to **** with your dominance",
And little did the world know, it'd be soon thrown into a vortex.

Shining from within like a blaze of sunlight,
Powered up by vexation from her plight,
She broke the ancient shields of the dark skies,
And swallowed the ossified world with plumes of her divine light,
Yet little did she know, she has pioneered a new set of star lights.

In some parallel universe.
Where blessings are curse.
Where doctor are called nurse.
You keep your kids in the purse.
You sit on the dogs and houses are guarded by horse.
Where the grains are powder and the flour is coarse.
Where the rain is burning hot and the bird roars.
The money is nothing and your right matters.
The guys are scared to go out in the night and the world is hers.
Women's rights are something, next to impossible in our world. I can only hope, maybe somewhere else it's a real thing.
Makeup on,
Makeup off.
Beautiful voice,
Raspy Cough.

Modest or bold,
Wears a hijab.
Model-like body,
No six-pack or abs.

Masculine tomboy,
Wears fishnet-tights.
Regardless how we look,
We still have rights.
Anton Mar 13
Jamie keeps a middle aged white man imprisoned below his house as an involuntary *** *****.
Jamie also donates a few hundred dollars each month to human rights organisations around the world.
Sam spends a few hours most weeks attempting to draw people’s
attention to both local, and international slavery.
Sam neither donates money to human rights organisations, nor keeps slaves himself.
Whilst most people who are concerned about human rights issues have a problem with slavery, there is some disagreement as to the most effective way to address it.
Some are of the view that Jamie, despite his direct participation in slavery, is doing more for human rights than is Sam. The theory is that by donating money to human rights organisations, one can offset the harm associated with keeping a *****, and in Jamie’s case, since the donations are significant, Jamie has accrued a human rights violation credit.
-Frightening thinking
See for more
Am I so sad that when I move
Move to wipe a tear
Mine eyes have none more rife to bear
Something to prove?

Come now, brilliantly eagerly!
Tuneful sweet yet dying rhyme
Why dost thou hide so dimly?
Ist thou afraid, dead in crime?
Hark! Listen now, the widowing music starts
The keys are struck
Listen, care-like, to these forte measures
Strife, this is strife!

Do you recall?
The calls of the people
Their banner above!
The cry of freeman
Echo cross all Earth-

So, this is, I assume birth
As I awake to this **** call’d home?
Mine reminiscence of love and peace-
Fallacy of mine own mind, pfft,
So be it!
In mine heart, shall love flourish-
If no where else, then here-
Where with love, it can nourish!
In a world where peace is a virtue, we cannot forget of all those who are born into lives of war, enslavement and mistreatment. Or, those who have died to try and preserve that peace. This isn't anything amazing, but to me, this is our world today.
Toxic yeti Mar 11
As I escape this
Tropical ****
To be with my family
And friends
Far in the east
I am reminded
Of the friends
I left
Just to be tortured
In this tropical ****
I weep as I swim to safety
It wasn’t a successful
For my friends are
Still suffering.
This “dead” girl will
Tell their story
And fight for them.
Tropical ****= Guantanamo bay.
Toxic yeti Mar 10
Better listen to me
This dead woman
Is talking
You should’ve
Treated me right
And not cheat
You may have found
Shall this convo begin in ****


Better to listen to me
This dead woman is
You shouldn’t be
You should’ve
Been open minded
You may have found
Shall this convo begin in ****


Better to listen to me
This dead woman is
You should’ve
Not beat me
You should’ve worshipped me
A goddess
You may have found
Shall the convo begin in ****.

Hide run scream fight
You can’t fight devious

Not that is inspired by PIGs song salambo
Toxic yeti Mar 9
You are a bunch
Of snowflakes
There is a difference
From normal to terrorism
There is a difference
Between a Muslim extremist
And a flipping Buddhist.
When will this BS of racism
And bigotry
They are horrible.
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