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Roro Aug 27
Some of us were sick and broken
But now some has turned into plenty
we live in a society
.
.
.
.
*cringe*
Ashwin Kumar Apr 1
Thirty years and counting
Every day, as life goes on
A fiery battle rages
In my mind, heart and soul
Conflicting thoughts and emotions
Wage an unholy war
Armed with a billion weapons
Far more destructive than nuclear bombs
The resulting carnage threatens
A result far worse than a Dementor's Kiss
You know, I never asked for this
I never asked to be born autistic
Of course, it is good to be different
But, does everybody appreciate this difference?
In India, the society judges you
Based on what you speak
However, my mouth is blessed
With an ability to turn
Anything that it touches, into stone
Resulting in decades of social anxiety
If only wishes were horses
I would be in Britain
Where actions speak louder than words
After all, not for nothing
Was King George VI one of the finest rulers
In spite of being born
With the handicap of a speech defect?

Thirty years and counting
Everybody seems to like me
Everybody seems to think I'm nice
Up to a point, that is
The moment I dare
To step out of my threshold
The moment I dare
To break codes of conformity
The moment I dare
To question any form of injustice
Is the moment of truth
It is the moment
When everybody shows their true colours
It is the moment
I stop being nice
Instead; I am angry, disturbed, jealous
Naive, immature, unreliable
Confused, weird, crazy
And the list goes on and on
With no end in sight

Thirty years and counting
I have seen enough
I have heard enough
I have felt enough
The time has finally come
For an internal independence struggle
Gone are the days
When I was busy being a 'Yes Man'
Now, if you have a problem with me
I can only tell you this
Tomorrow, you may find
A pill of cyanide
In your cup of coffee
Or a cobra in your shoulder bag
Or a bullet in your temple
Or a bomb in your briefcase
The choice is entirely yours, my dears
This poem has a dark ending, and a Harry Potter reference.
Liz Apr 2019
Why did you commit the ******?
Why are you so displeased with anger?
Did you plan this as a mission or did someone else promise you that they’ll get you out of suspicion?

Why didn’t you bury the body?
Why did you leave it behind?
Is it for someone to find?

You wipe away all the possible evidence,
And when the time arrives,
You act like you’re bore out of innocence!
Just some questions to ask a murderer.
America the great?
No, America is hate.
Divided by supremacy
yet, we're called "United" States.
The unfortunate reality
but, I still have faith
that we'll get through this together,
that we'll make it through these days.
Through all these mixed emotions
I just want to say,
this is what it's come to
and NO, IT'S NOT OKAY.
To all my people who are hurting,
I feel you & your pain.
This is "America" & it's a ******* disgrace.
To Mexican & African Americans & gays,
lesbians, bisexuals, transgenders,
I pray.
Muslims, queers, intersexuals,
stay safe.
Asexuals, low income, & women,
have strength.
To all the disabled and victims of ****
& to those that suffer from constant dismay,
I feel for you,
I feel your pain.
Through love and unity
our strength shall remain.
Eliza Noxon Oct 2017
Where I come from
We have intellectual discussions through bad grammar and crass diction
Tossing around speech patterns and vocal quirks like the football our team uses to beat yours

My friends and I refuse to be seperated while we walk
Because our jewish friend warned us to not
Sharing her heritage and culture like we share clothes and advice

I know how to express my love in multiple languages,
Bro, Cariña, Uo Mamae, Habibi,
Because thats how my friends refer to me
Terms of endearment but people assume we're shouting slurs

We know the motions to make
When you look down your noses at us
Because we take care of our own
And know better then to cow to weak chins and glassy eyes

We learn from each other and grow
Share language and culture
Play games and eat food from countries we've never been too
But which we have come to care about and know

You roll your eyes when we compete
then claim we cheated when we win
You mistake your reflected past success as a glimpse into the future
While we keep our eyes to the sky, and continue moving forward

You paint us with knives and guns so often that maybe that's what we've become.
That's what you believe we've become.

Well I don't believe that
No, we don't believe that!
We believe that we are above your broken kaleidoscope view of us

Welcome to hidden genius and determination
Welcome to diversity and true community
Welcome to introspection and collective success

You may not like it
May not wanna look
But we are brave, strong, intelligent, determined, caring, proud
And we are above you
Tyrus Jun 2017
I walk a path paved in penciled graffiti,
Where outlined music notes
Amuse my anecdotes,
I walk with break beats in my blood,
With brain waves pounding bass drums,
I got liquid
808 fingertips
And lips
Malted with crossfade grins
To spin surges of synergy
Out of bottled up battles,
Even my baby rattles
Used to shake with rhythm.

Wars
Should pause for music.

The power of harmonic symphony
Just pimping me,
Creeping up through cracked sidewalks,
Wrapping shadows around legs,
Up hips to necks
As it grabs,
Just pimping me,
A dance floor ***** with
Peace in and of mind,
In circles of 32
Note by note,
That lump of emotion
In my throat
Could choke,
With neon freedom.

Maybe it’s a pipe dream,
That we could put down the guns
And rave to the drums,
That even silencers will be silent,
And the smell of gunpowder
Will squander for an hour,
That there will be a day with no death,
A day free of neurotic nail biting mothers
Holding their breath,
That their children will walk our land again,
A day that suicide bombs
Won’t detonate,
That cries of loss and sadness
Won’t resonate,
A day that we won’t decimate,
Our own race,
The human race

Maybe it’s a pipe dream,
But that’s my pipe dream.

I’ve spanned seas to see,
That music brings harmony,
I’ve danced along
An African diplomat named Ife,
Which means love,
A Polish carpenter named Sebastian,
Which means dignity,
A Vietnamese banker named Ly,
Which means Lion,
And collectively,
We,
We're individuals,
Smiling to that same pumping beat,
That,
Breakbeat,
That brain wave pounding bass drum,
That strum laced
With a graceful hum,
Making our race numb,
There was no color,
There was no history
Because my history
Won’t dictate me,
Not that it's non-existent,
Not that I’m resistant
To believe that people hate
Because of the past,
But I understand personalities,
And believe
Everyone deserves a fair shot
At being an individual

Everyone deserves that music,
Everyone deserves to have
That path paved in penciled graffiti,
Where outlined music notes,
Amuse their anecdotes,
Everyone deserves to feel
Breakbeats in their blood,
And brain waves pounding bass drums,
Those liquid
808 fingertips
And lips
Malted with crossfade grins
That spin surges of synergy,
Everyone deserves what we have to offer,
Everyone deserves,
To dance to their own breakbeat
Of peace
I didn't do the things in the 6th stanza, but you know what point i was trying to get across
George Andres Jul 2016
Bagong panahon
Dalwa'mpu't 'sang dantaon
Diskriminasyon
Makalumang panahon
Tayo na't pumadayon
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George Andres Jul 2016
Siksik sa kahon
Huminto na bagon
Ika'y tumalon
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George Andres Jul 2016
Harapin hamon
Layon ng edukasyon
Magsilbing timon
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