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#persecution
WAKE UP the world isn't perfect, STAND UP, they need you more than ever. This is less of a poem, and more of a plea. Right now, not in the 1800's, NOW. In Uganda, Homosexuality is being PERSECUTED and is punishable, by death.
0
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 3:02 PM UTC
WE need to make a CHANGE
There's a dystopian novel, These boys lived in a country on the brink, Of war. They were in love. They were in fear, Of something people said stopped, A long time ago. Religious groups rally for Persecution of "homos" Going as far as the death penalty. "Conversion camps" for minors, Are legal where they live. Electroshock therapy. Kids who show too much emotions, Can't sit still, Get too excited, Are medicated. Until we have an army of zombies. The leader of the country Got rid of the rule book, Burned it. Fueled the fire with his rap sheet. I didn't like that book one bit, The title of the unrealistic horror was, My diary.
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May 9
May 9, 2026 at 4:04 PM UTC
Dystopian Propaganda
He is born like you and me, from clay and a man’s rib, because women don’t make babies, God claims this fib. He sent His son down here with brown skin and foreign tongue, in a land where men decide what sins are sung. His voice echoes above all the others, a message that draws the destitute near, a voice that praises the less and casts out all who take money for cheer. His hands feed the hungry and sit with the poor, He laughs with the ‘sinners’ who know same love can soar. He walks with certainty in the face of hate, insisting the faithful are not those with full pockets, and prayers don’t replace what passion owes. His presence grows and gets the attention of the powerful and rich, who are used to controlling the masses with only the flick of a switch. While He provides aid, the rich plot His demise, like Pontius Pilate and His faithful following with closed eyes. He spreads a message of peace and love for those the powerful deemed too weird and strange to exist in a world less faithful than it seemed. They rebrand His message, reselling it to the masses, claiming He is what they fear most— the mirror held to fascists. They nail Him up and leave Him to die, waiting for their God to prove this sinner’s words were the lie. Any person who repeats His message, who lives it as He meant, will be marked, removed, and cut away, unless they lie and repent.
0
Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 7:57 PM UTC
He Is Born Like You And Me
In I came to Dublin town, Riding one fine morning, I spied some Johnny Bullies And I started off a'cussing! Leave my home, Go on get out. Leave the whiskey, Leave the grub. Tell the king To go **** off And stay in his doe-hog hovel. O'er glens of An Cabhán There flew a rag of red, I tore it off from where it hung And ripped it all to shreds! Leave my house, You're unwelcome. Leave the rope & iron. Tell the king To go **** off, Lest he would rather violence. In Londonderry & Belfast, Pleasant little branches, We'll grow ourselves gigantic oaks Uproot their picket fences! Leave my home, Go on get out. Leave the whiskey, Leave the grub. Tell the king To go **** off And stay in his doe-hog hovel. Say the hounds are all but slept, Yet I still hear the barking. I think it restful pouting Readying for a real good bouting! Leave my house, You're unwelcome. Leave the rope & iron. Tell the king To go **** off, Lest he would rather violence. Hard to find good honest work, When of royal or noble; Hard to find good honest work If they claim you're not loyal! Leave my home, Go on get out. Leave my house, You're unwelcome. Tell the king To go **** off, And kindly don't respond.
0
Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 7:07 PM UTC
Johnny Poodle
Human victims inhuman disease Gases still fill memories chamber Survivors a perpetual breed
0
Nov 13, 2024
Nov 13, 2024 at 11:22 AM UTC
Death Camps (In Remembrance)
I am surrounded by comforts and convenances as I pack the cub-bards, lining them with provisions. Some of which I will not get to before they perish. I pay no mind to the clouds that gather above my head because I will soon walk into the shelter of my luxurious home. I close the door sealing out the pestilence. the last part of my home barricaded by all the elements. I seat myself in a climate controlled throne where I waste away watching the regurgitation of one talking head to another. I stand at once to pour my cup out into the sink. I look out the window and see a horizon of red illuminated by the smoke and fires that grow beneath it. I close the blinds and I make my way to the master bedroom. I take off my custom made clothes and fold them neatly at the foot of my bed. I brush my teeth and put on my pajamas as I hear a thunder in the distance grow closer . I turn on my fan to drown out the noise. I then lay myself down and nestle the silk of my pillow. I begin to fall asleep not quite past Rapid eye movement. I am then ripped from my bed. I am drug down the stairs pulling banisters back resisting my pursuer’s. They’re strength to much to my own they quickly over power me. My finger nails dig into the decking of my lavish hardwood sprawl. There is no hope for me at this point. I then am hit with a blunt object and loose consciousness. I awake with a bag over my head and my hands tied behind my back. The dry air and exhaustion from my screams make my mouth dry. I feel insects crawl on me not as an infestation but as a hindering concentration on my hands and feet. I don’t know what they are but they bite me like fire ants. I cannot shake them loose. Once I do my hands and feet are  bound down by my captors. They shout at me slurs and demand I renounce. They beat me with they’re fist and feet. They grab me up and drag me down a long hall. I am pushed to the floor and then picked up. My head is shoved down as they submerge me in water. Over and over and over again. I begin blacking out because my body is entering a breaking point. I am then drug back down the hall and cast back into my dark room. This continues for days as I am being starved. I begin eating the ants that bite my hands and feet. I drink the water I can when I am being dunked over and over again. I begin to try and adapt to this tormented routine. I am far past depression I am numb and I am hopeless. I am so lonely I try conversing with my captors. They don’t speak in my language so I try to make myself believe what they say back to me are kind and hopeful things. They demand that I renounce in my language. It is the only thing I understand the entirety of my stay. I sense the desperation in they’re tone they almost seem sad that I am not responding to they’re abuse. I fear they will soon grow tired of trying and end me as a result. The next morning I awake with a cold blade on my neck. I shout out “I renounce! I begin crying and shouting out; I renounce!” They pick me up and break my bonds and sit me in a chair. One officer removes the bag over my head and I see for the first time in I don’t know how long. Another officer hands me a glass of water and my face falls in shame and relief. This is the real beginning of my torment. After giving me instructions and sending me on my way. I ….. To be continued…
0
Sep 10, 2022
Sep 10, 2022 at 8:13 PM UTC
..(Dark Hour)..part 1
I am surrounded by comforts and convenances as I pack the cub-bards, lining them with provisions. Some of which I will not get to before they perish. I pay no mind to the clouds that gather above my head because I will soon walk into the shelter of my luxurious home. I close the door sealing out the pestilence. the last part of my home barricaded by all the elements. I seat myself in a climate controlled throne where I waste away watching the regurgitation of one talking head to another. I stand at once to pour my cup out into the sink. I look out the window and see a horizon of red illuminated by the smoke and fires that grow beneath it. I close the blinds and I make my way to the master bedroom. I take off my custom made clothes and fold them neatly at the foot of my bed. I brush my teeth and put on my pajamas as I hear a thunder in the distance grow closer . I turn on my fan to drown out the noise. I then lay myself down and nestle the silk of my pillow. I begin to fall asleep not quite past Rapid eye movement. I am then ripped from my bed. I am drug down the stairs pulling banisters back resisting my pursuer’s. They’re strength to much to my own they quickly over power me. My finger nails dig into the decking of my lavish hardwood sprawl. There is no hope for me at this point. I then am hit with a blunt object and loose consciousness. I awake with a bag over my head and my hands tied behind my back. The dry air and exhaustion from my screams make my mouth dry. I feel insects crawl on me not as an infestation but as a hindering concentration on my hands and feet. I don’t know what they are but they bite me like fire ants. I cannot shake them loose. Once I do my hands and feet are  bound down by my captors. They shout at me slurs and demand I renounce. They beat me with they’re fist and feet. They grab me up and drag me down a long hall. I am pushed to the floor and then picked up. My head is shoved down as they submerge me in water. Over and over and over again. I begin blacking out because my body is entering a breaking point. I am then drug back down the hall and cast back into my dark room. This continues for days as I am being starved. I begin eating the ants that bite my hands and feet. I drink the water I can when I am being dunked over and over again. I begin to try and adapt to this tormented routine. I am far past depression I am numb and I am hopeless. I am so lonely I try conversing with my captors. They don’t speak in my language so I try to make myself believe what they say back to me are kind and hopeful things. They demand that I renounce in my language. It is the only thing I understand the entirety of my stay. I sense the desperation in they’re tone they almost seem sad that I am not responding to they’re abuse. I fear they will soon grow tired of trying and end me as a result. The next morning I awake with a cold blade on my neck. I shout out “I renounce! I begin crying and shouting out; I renounce!” They pick me up and break my bonds and sit me in a chair. One officer removes the bag over my head and I see for the first time in I don’t know how long. Another officer hands me a glass of water and my face falls in shame and relief. This is the real beginning of my torment. After giving me instructions and sending me on my way. I ….. To be continued…
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15
I thought I'm out But that's not what life's about To fight or to get walked over A question for tomorrow He's punching and punching, will it blow over? Anger, fear, and sorrow
0
Oct 10, 2021
Oct 10, 2021 at 6:50 PM UTC
Madness V. Reason
The peace of this small neighbourhood, is shattered as the door caves in As masked marauders seek with guns, the criminals that hide within But they find no deadly drug baron, Nor killer, or ****** animal But a grey-haired lady, small and frail, in terror as she beholds them all At gunpoint then her hands are tied, and her walking stick cast to the floor As she is marched by mighty men, to the waiting van outside her door Her heart skips wildly and her breath is tight, as she is bundled roughly inside Her dignity and rights of law, are swept away and cruelly denied And across the town there sits a girl, with kindly, smiling joyful eyes A teen who spends her youthful zest, bringing hope and joy to other lives But little does she know this day, that her future days are to dwell Not in delight and dancing halls, but in a dark and lonely prison cell And elsewhere stands a local hero, a man so honoured by decree Acclaimed by peers and politicians, as a citizen of kindly deeds Yet on this day, he is torn away, from his family who are left in tears As this father and devoted husband, is imprisoned now for seven years Who are these ones snatched by the state, and treated so unjustly Held without cause or consideration, and despised so bitterly? They obey all laws and pay their dues, and love their neighbours when they can And share a hope of a future bright, even though their hope is banned They are young and old, black and white, and gathered from diversity They wage no wars, won't steal or lie, but treat all people with dignity For their crime is not of violence, nor abuse, or fraud or robbery But of being Christians and trying to show, Christ-like love to you and me And what of those who terrorize them, the land where this grim drama is set That mighty nation, so paranoid, that it considers them a threat This pretender to the throne, bedecked in red and white and blue Is a jealous king who hates the ones, who, to Christ their King are ever true But as they languish in prison cells, awaiting justice from the King The one whose commandments they obey, is smiling down and proud of them For their hope is not in men of law, nor international decree But their just and loving King, Christ Jesus, and in God- Jehovah's sovereignty Dedicated to Jehovah's Witnesses imprisoned in Russia
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Jun 26, 2021
Jun 26, 2021 at 7:26 AM UTC
The King of The North
The peace of this small neighbourhood, is shattered as the door caves in As masked marauders seek with guns, the criminals that hide within But they find no deadly drug baron, Nor killer, or ****** animal But a grey-haired lady, small and frail, in terror as she beholds them all At gunpoint then her hands are tied, and her walking stick cast to the floor As she is marched by mighty men, to the waiting van outside her door Her heart skips wildly and her breath is tight, as she is bundled roughly inside Her dignity and rights of law, are swept away and cruelly denied And across the town there sits a girl, with kindly, smiling joyful eyes A teen who spends her youthful zest, bringing hope and joy to other lives But little does she know this day, that her future days are to dwell Not in delight and dancing halls, but in a dark and lonely prison cell And elsewhere stands a local hero, a man so honoured by decree Acclaimed by peers and politicians, as a citizen of kindly deeds Yet on this day, he is torn away, from his family who are left in tears As this father and devoted husband, is imprisoned now for seven years Who are these ones snatched by the state, and treated so unjustly Held without cause or consideration, and despised so bitterly? They obey all laws and pay their dues, and love their neighbours when they can And share a hope of a future bright, even though their hope is banned They are young and old, black and white, and gathered from diversity They wage no wars, won't steal or lie, but treat all people with dignity For their crime is not of violence, nor abuse, or fraud or robbery But of being Christians and trying to show, Christ-like love to you and me And what of those who terrorize them, the land where this grim drama is set That mighty nation, so paranoid, that it considers them a threat This pretender to the throne, bedecked in red and white and blue Is a jealous king who hates the ones, who, to Christ their King are ever true But as they languish in prison cells, awaiting justice from the King The one whose commandments they obey, is smiling down and proud of them For their hope is not in men of law, nor international decree But their just and loving King, Christ Jesus, and in God- Jehovah's sovereignty Dedicated to Jehovah's Witnesses imprisoned in Russia
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35
* Your Honor, The persecution rests. *
0
Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 12:51 AM UTC
Order
Take it as a compliment Branded heretical. Bring on the pyre, And set it afire; When they resort to Crucifixion You’ll know you have the right Convictions
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Nov 16, 2020
Nov 16, 2020 at 10:03 PM UTC
Salem
Spit from your mouth like an insult like the very word doesn't bloom and fill me with the pride of it _witch, pagan, devil_ Spit hate and misinformation like your ancestors before you keep your cycle and see where it goes
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Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 12:57 AM UTC
Pagan
tell me: how are beliefs helping when they cause persecution screaming injustice while performing acts of hate? tell me: how does one differ folly for a questionable book or the innermost desire to rule others? tell me: how can one say religions are the foundations of earth when morality is at a point of contempt? tell me: how could one say one believes in a god when one ignores humanity? where is the decency? what is peace in a tyranny of hate? some day we'll realize a little too late...
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Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 7:09 PM UTC
tell me
Dull is the day. A new thrill in the night. A shrill scream in her flight. Blood is dripping, the ax is lifting Last of his kind, a creature of night, life in perpetual darkness, neverending, the madness. The spirits are raising, pursuers are racing, with a goal of ending his splendid ambition. The endless ordeal has come to an end, his final salvation eluded again. The blood is no longer dripping, his hands, no longer ripping the flesh. Rapture is gone, once again he's alone. He's come to oblivion, forgotten again, ignored, but prison can bind him only so long.
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Dec 29, 2019
Dec 29, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC
Eternal death tango.
Righteous anger is intoxicating; Brain cells sold to the fiction of the mind. It funds peddlers too loudly debating: Oh, what to do with words spent on designs Of machines combating contradictions? Their motherboards are hardwired for the **** Any thoughts or beliefs on opinions? Just wait for their hunger to get its fill. Nothing like teeth flushed with red and venom. *** death, and chocolate cannot compare To the moral high ground's cheap decorum Of beliefs held in contempt and despair.       Because paying attention to the wit       Of my getting hard done by is the ****
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Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 10:42 PM UTC
Persecution Complex
I'll bite and snarl at your wheels rumbling past me up that hill I know you'll never stop leaving me stranded a mad dog.
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Sep 23, 2019
Sep 23, 2019 at 7:27 PM UTC
Mad Dog
A ring of futility The patience game is not for the faint heart Watching them tear your confidence apart, Pulling the flesh from your backbone Creaks give way to breaking Shattering of nerves Plucking away the feathers of hope Bare naked and goosepimpled The carvery lays waiting An unceremonious carving Beligerant twisted barbs of lies They think they have power They think the can destroy me I almost thought they could too, But as they say reputation is king And mine speaks flesh to my bones I pick the scales off one by one Their pious deception no match for my holy inception A twisted fork tongue lays deep in its own rotted flesh How the snakehole swallows it's own creator Writhing in contorted panic as it's own truth flashes in its eyes I may well be torn down every shred of pride Only to rise a new and free from their serpentry While they taste the bitter poison in their own sad tales They never had real faith And mine was never afraid of being tested They forgot the sage old saying Death trampling on death Arise Tabitha and sin is no more And nor is the serpent whom devours its self.
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Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 5:58 AM UTC
The Serpent Devours Itself
good health i have had a comfortable life with middle class privilege but i have known and seen bullies in my class making me stand against it always they are leading the country now and are demonstrably showing brutal intransigent power over those without citizen identity because we had wars in their countries so they have done nothing more than seek a better life who wouldn’t have? and now they can’t go back so many people compromised by oil greed and power avarice rendered without country without wealth without identity without dignity these people are no different in human need yet i have place i have citizen identity i have freedom
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May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 6:37 PM UTC
i have ...
#*Perilous times are foretold for the end When the one who betrays might as soon be a friend When he who walked with you in the midst of God's throng Proves a broken-off reed who didn't belong When the crowd turns away from the truth they once knew To embrace a strange fire of the enemy's brew When the mystic is favored much more than the teacher And intolerant is the name reserved for the preacher For myriads have tasted of the heavenly gifts Then at some unknown point the set compass shifts And they show by the fact that they do not endure That they never knew the One Whose salvation is sure For He's promised He cannot lose one of His own Yet His wheat grows with tares that His enemy's sown So these goats dressed as sheep might say all the right words But pasted-on wings do not turn moles to birds They learn the same Scriptures and enjoy the same songs But haven't yet come to the cross for their wrongs Haven't taken it up and followed the Lord Have never been born of His Spirit Who is poured Into all whom the Father has chosen for His Son Those predestined before the world had begun So among the elect in the pews sit the dead Unregenerate men taking up masks instead And some will sit thus for the rest of their life While others walk away overcome by the strife Of their trials, distractions, desires or greed Rather trusting the world to provide all that they need For discipleship costs and most think it too high A price now to pay of their self who must die Most are tripped by the weight of that covenant walk Which accompanies a faith that goes past mere talk It is God's grace alone which grants genuine belief And with it repentance for proud or for thief While the course remains bumpy until dying day The saved may fall down, but they can't fall away For salvation from first to the last is of the Lord And His Spirit within is what keeps saints secured It's our duty and privilege to obey and abide Yet how could we without His power inside? Now besides a new fuel we receive a new nature The old man is dead, we are made a new creature One that's being conformed to the image of Jesus So we live to please Him now and not to please us But because of this switch the world is enraged For when light shines in darkness its evil's front stage They hate us the same as they hated our Master And as time nears its close their fury swells faster Persecution's been promised for all who are godly Could be mocking, rejection or harm that is ****** It cannot compare though to what's been exchanged In the gift of redemption for our souls long-deranged So we dare not forget when the blows are received That those doing the punching are still dead and deceived Still locked in the grip of the enemy's force Still blinded by sin, still enslaved to its course Just judgment will come if they do not repent If they keep on rejecting God's Lamb Who was sent So it's best left to Him to defend us against The disdain and discord of a world that's incensed For they're already judged who refuse to believe And we would be too but for mercy's reprieve Being saved from God's wrath that is soon to be poured Out full strength onto those who His truths have ignored In the meantime the Father's maturing His children Forging character depth through both trials and discipline So let's not lose hope in the face of our sorrow But rejoice that He's working it out for tomorrow Since we have a sure treasure stored for us in heaven And we'll soon be set free from all sin-staining leaven Let's press on toward Christ's likeness worked in us by grace And look hard for first moments our eyes see His face!*#
0
Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
Perilous Times
#*Perilous times are foretold for the end When the one who betrays might as soon be a friend When he who walked with you in the midst of God's throng Proves a broken-off reed who didn't belong When the crowd turns away from the truth they once knew To embrace a strange fire of the enemy's brew When the mystic is favored much more than the teacher And intolerant is the name reserved for the preacher For myriads have tasted of the heavenly gifts Then at some unknown point the set compass shifts And they show by the fact that they do not endure That they never knew the One Whose salvation is sure For He's promised He cannot lose one of His own Yet His wheat grows with tares that His enemy's sown So these goats dressed as sheep might say all the right words But pasted-on wings do not turn moles to birds They learn the same Scriptures and enjoy the same songs But haven't yet come to the cross for their wrongs Haven't taken it up and followed the Lord Have never been born of His Spirit Who is poured Into all whom the Father has chosen for His Son Those predestined before the world had begun So among the elect in the pews sit the dead Unregenerate men taking up masks instead And some will sit thus for the rest of their life While others walk away overcome by the strife Of their trials, distractions, desires or greed Rather trusting the world to provide all that they need For discipleship costs and most think it too high A price now to pay of their self who must die Most are tripped by the weight of that covenant walk Which accompanies a faith that goes past mere talk It is God's grace alone which grants genuine belief And with it repentance for proud or for thief While the course remains bumpy until dying day The saved may fall down, but they can't fall away For salvation from first to the last is of the Lord And His Spirit within is what keeps saints secured It's our duty and privilege to obey and abide Yet how could we without His power inside? Now besides a new fuel we receive a new nature The old man is dead, we are made a new creature One that's being conformed to the image of Jesus So we live to please Him now and not to please us But because of this switch the world is enraged For when light shines in darkness its evil's front stage They hate us the same as they hated our Master And as time nears its close their fury swells faster Persecution's been promised for all who are godly Could be mocking, rejection or harm that is ****** It cannot compare though to what's been exchanged In the gift of redemption for our souls long-deranged So we dare not forget when the blows are received That those doing the punching are still dead and deceived Still locked in the grip of the enemy's force Still blinded by sin, still enslaved to its course Just judgment will come if they do not repent If they keep on rejecting God's Lamb Who was sent So it's best left to Him to defend us against The disdain and discord of a world that's incensed For they're already judged who refuse to believe And we would be too but for mercy's reprieve Being saved from God's wrath that is soon to be poured Out full strength onto those who His truths have ignored In the meantime the Father's maturing His children Forging character depth through both trials and discipline So let's not lose hope in the face of our sorrow But rejoice that He's working it out for tomorrow Since we have a sure treasure stored for us in heaven And we'll soon be set free from all sin-staining leaven Let's press on toward Christ's likeness worked in us by grace And look hard for first moments our eyes see His face!*#
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72
Discrimination Knowledge is power, know your history; Study his story or her story. Whichever you favour, to choose your reaction; For illumination, learn about the history of your nation. For history repeats itself, So make a change, to help yourself. Learn what made you, the person you are. Know your roots, before planting your seed, Don't let your mistakes, line your history. Affirmative action will set you free, to ignore the bigotry. The Afro-American struggle has similarities with your own; Surely you too, have been persecuted by someone. Sure maybe on a different scale, But still persecuted, like the feminist females. Still treated differently Because of their thoughts of you. Their opinion of how you look, Or what they see you do. Surely they've closed the door to you too? And sent you away, Before hearing your words? Simply because of the way, You are perceived to be. It may have even lead you, To question the person they see. They judge you with their power, Without even knowing you; But even Einstein looked stupid, With his mad scientist hairdo. So follow what you believe, you can really do, Don't quit because they say, You can't do the things you wish to. Prove them wrong, prove yourself right. Never let them overcome your struggle, Because nothing good comes easy, There is always a price. So is it worth the fight? The hardest fight you'll have Is with the demons inside you, But when you've conquered your inner demons, Nothing in this world will be able to stop you. (C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
0
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC
Discrimination
Discrimination Knowledge is power, know your history; Study his story or her story. Whichever you favour, to choose your reaction; For illumination, learn about the history of your nation. For history repeats itself, So make a change, to help yourself. Learn what made you, the person you are. Know your roots, before planting your seed, Don't let your mistakes, line your history. Affirmative action will set you free, to ignore the bigotry. The Afro-American struggle has similarities with your own; Surely you too, have been persecuted by someone. Sure maybe on a different scale, But still persecuted, like the feminist females. Still treated differently Because of their thoughts of you. Their opinion of how you look, Or what they see you do. Surely they've closed the door to you too? And sent you away, Before hearing your words? Simply because of the way, You are perceived to be. It may have even lead you, To question the person they see. They judge you with their power, Without even knowing you; But even Einstein looked stupid, With his mad scientist hairdo. So follow what you believe, you can really do, Don't quit because they say, You can't do the things you wish to. Prove them wrong, prove yourself right. Never let them overcome your struggle, Because nothing good comes easy, There is always a price. So is it worth the fight? The hardest fight you'll have Is with the demons inside you, But when you've conquered your inner demons, Nothing in this world will be able to stop you. (C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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43
They run. They scream. They beg for help. Their homes are burned. The women are ***** The children are tortured. Everyone is killed. A savior amidst the government and yet her lips sit on top of each other, only opening to condemn the persecuted Rohingya... A Nobel Peace Prize winner revealing herself as an assailant of ethics. The Rohingya. The humans denied aid by almost every brother and sister, THOUSANDS of men, women, children, are drowning, burning, pleaing for mercy, as you sit in your comfy chair and read this poem, as i sit in this bed writing this poem. The Rohingya are looking into the eyes of a Buddhist state; looking down the barrel of a gun pointed at them from infancy. An entire culture dedicated to dehumanizing humans... An entire coalition of states conforming to locking the Rohingya out... A state committing textbook genocide. A world subduing to textbook ignorance. And the Rohingya fighting for the right to live For the right to be Human The Rohingya must not flee, nor fear persecution, for We shall stand by the Rohingya!
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Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 10:59 PM UTC
The Rohingya Flee