What is Woke
Unbridled intention or activism shrouded by an enveloping cloak?
Doing Good
Embracing causes from some unwritten book.
Driving Equity
Is there some clarity or just another term for charity.
Pro-Choice
For set boundaries to be given a clear voice.
Gender-Neutral
A novel fad or a path to personal renewal?
Gay Rights
To live a life without the need for constant fights.
Homeless Plight
Society's need to choose what's wrong or right.
Substance Abuse
An epidemic that needs firm action not excuse.
Open Borders
If uncontrolled a breeding ground for horrors.
Carbon Neutral
A stark requirement lest our future be most brutal.
Glass Ceiling
Breaking boundaries seemingly unyielding.
Me Too
Spiking conversations that once were just taboo.

There's no ready song book
To how this should sound or simply just look,
The line is precariously fine
When our social mores often turn on the tone of a solitary line.
Some we get right
Where the path may be bathed in moral sunlight,
Others might flail
Promoted by Twitters’ loud mocking wail.
But try we so must
To craft a society that’s fair and inherently just.
While criticism is rarely benign
To also care deeply is never malign.
So let us unite if not all then just some
To craft a new world where we’re different but One.

Sounds & pictures,
for the records to show
—today we're going to war

Grenade hearts; with all their
pent up emotions ready to explode
The sounds of guns in orchestra
of a thousand applauds
Ashes have made grey the floor;
as the after smoke chokes the globe

Parachutes blanket the sky,
black navy teal,—the day becomes night
Darkness roams behind a gun,
and with it's might, dissipates a man's sight
Blinded by foreshadowing, what follows
through, is it's omen painted black of blight

Pools of blood, shallow to a charging foot
marching armies depart blades of grass
from it's root

Children who sing songs with a gun
dancing unarmed under the sun
Thinking it's just a toy for fun;
what has this world become, but the result
of being the victim in front of the gun

                          ...we're killing our earth
Means we alone are just killing ourselves

Life is a magnet;

Attracting what we like

Retracting statements;

Only after society's pushback

Hearts sometimes made of iron;

Irony seeing a hard life through soft eyes

As people are meant to be deep oceans;

But a man swims shallow— afraid to cry

Deepened by the weary of provision

Yet not provided a listening ear

She calls, "why won't you come near"

He's a magnet, pushed in a corner by fears

         ...trapped in society's magnetic fields

Burnt out heroes
in amongst the burning plans of villains
Fearless- in amongst trying to be like your heroes
within comic feelings. Sounds comic; chiefly
read in pages of a lifestyle. Naked eye strips,
greyish looks of cloud lids filled with rain in my
eyes

Heaven is crying every night, a thousand
angels in a stormy night
Reminiscing fallen angels from that hole
in the sky. Human are too fallen; those lost
of conduct or virtue- a hole in their soul's closet
the devil that urge you. Church who; probed
questions of your faith to search you.
As I refer to you being trapped in your mind
off it's strict curfew

Even as a role model plays a perfect smile
there's still an act to keep thoroughly
But in that case when fans aren't around,
their face peels away the skins of lie
No need to practice your lines
no need to pretend to be a star out of Hollywood
like light's shine. Shyly acting free!
The end of the scene, a role model no longer blind
when they're now unseen

Skin grey
un rubbed emotions, and cracking sounds
drawing river lines on the skins display
All applauds are gone; just you clapping by
yourself under the clap of thunderstorms
Still feeling empty, even with the person you
brought home, bought home- to come and practice
those secrets tabs of your chrome

At times trying to be anti pessimistic
anti climatic, of all you've achieved and all
those childhood wishes
Swimming with the ugly fishes; selfish needs
you couldn't have had before
It's the role models, having crowds dancing
to their tune, all pressing their head on the floor
Can't mask a flaw, only disguising it until
it all comes out in the world

No role models left,
just the ashes of their dead careers and
immediate deaths. O yes, success tickles
the ears—as common sense becomes so deaf
All is grey, grey is the colour of my heroes,
forgetting they all started as imperfect people

Tones of a thorough voice
Masculine or feminine, tender to a fault
And a whole leap of conscience, for to liberty we were...
The time of collecting notice of a shared decision, for a salt

Restitute, and wondering if gay can be?
The tale of lived hours, home to save a callous share
Of what is us, if thundering frustration, have to heed...
Will a certainty of poise, begin with destined options or a delinquent flare?

A voice through enough, is careful, to tell the chance...
Of cease and herald, my timidity is for better all
Them and sense to seem, the better of a falling man?
That has seen a wiser choice, the breadth of concern to any's call?

Truer to define a shout, than a whisper of curiosity...
Mind over mention, of matter's at hand, may and?
Have the courage to live in well and lent light, a virtuosity
That comes and goes like a lover, notice me in the sulk, of also ran...

Time immemorial, them given implicitly...
Finished thought's, that feed me for years...
Kissing questions sound enough, to live the life of reality...
And a brown-nosed television, with an excuse of purposes to suggest we're...

Cold are the leaves of the tree
I climb to the top
I need that yellow fruit
But not for me.

Wind cutting through my skin
Rain falling down my face
They must not see my pain
Keep the tears within.

I hope I don't fall
No time to stretch
Unless I have the fruit
They will not catch.

they said look at yourself
in the mirror
and when i did
all i saw a girl
who couldn't say no
who was tired of doing
things she couldn't love
who forgot to smile when
she saw the things she liked
the reflection in mirror
was telling a story
she never thought
could be written for her
can she cry now?
she asked
but shook her head
as this society was not going
to give her the privilege
of being her true self