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morseismyjam Apr 2022
Guys like us don't get breaks
with our unshaven faces and manky hair and eyeliner.
Our work-torn jeans colorful tattoos and pierced lips a warning,
Aposematism in human form.
Guys like us don't get breaks
We claw and drag our way not to the top,
but to the surface.
Ain't got no daddy's money.
Ain't got no daddy, or wish we didn't
cause he comes home
talking 'bout how he didn't raise no ******.
(He didn't raise nobody).
Guys like us don't get breaks.
Nothing but mildewy rooms
McDonalds for dinner washed
down with cheap *****
Another Thank you for applying but...
Rent due the 24th.
alone at night again.
Guys like us don't get breaks.
This was inspired by a friend of mine in a way. Being young, queer, and poor *****
Roro Aug 2020
Some of us were sick and broken
But now some has turned into plenty
we live in a society
Merlie T Apr 2020
I am angry at men for so many reasons.
Women being assaulted every three minutes or so
Forcing us to bear all the weight of support
While not being granted any responsibility
At my dad for dying and leaving
At my step dad for having an affair
At my brother for hitting me so **** much while growing up
At my other brother for always staying away when he was unsure if we loved him.
At every man who hurt, threatened, hit my sister
For shredding our worth and self esteem
to cover up the immense insecurities men feel
due to societal expectations and pressures
put forth by generations of men who came before them
A toxic patriarchy they themselves will continue
For silencing me in every ******* conversation.
MOTHER Earth, NOT father.
****. YOU.
This is in no way meant to put down men as a whole, meerily an expression of the anger I feel toward the men in my life who have caused harm. I love many men in my life and in this world, and appreciate the unique beauty they all contain.
Ashwin Kumar Apr 2020
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
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.
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.

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're individuals,
Smiling to that same pumping beat,
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
Makalumang panahon
Tayo na't pumadayon
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