#uneducated - Hello Poetry

Am I stupid, uneducated or just overthinking?

0

May 11, 2020

May 11, 2020 at 10:40 PM UTC

kelsey-12

Have you ever thought:

Am I stupid, uneducated or just overthinking?

1

Uneducated is the one preserving the other as lesser than they. For without knowing, you are less educated in self than in words..

0

Jul 31, 2018

Jul 31, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC

poetic-t

Uneducated Whimper

Uneducated is the one preserving the other as lesser than they. For without knowing, you are less educated in self than in words..

5

He neither attended any college, nor did he go to school He didn’t even know to read and write, I just labelled him as a fool... But when I had a talk with him, he proved me wrong... Behind stupid attire, he possessed knowledge I can never extract, even if I study lifelong... That day I learned an important thing, Harsh realities of life teach you much better, Than what they teach you at school... And if you think you can survive this world only with theoretical knowledge, You are no genius but just an arrogant fool... At last I just want to thank that uneducated scholar, For opening my eyes... And guiding me on the path, That leads to endless knowledge and ultimate truth of life...

0

Sep 29, 2016

Sep 29, 2016 at 11:24 PM UTC

neeraj-sharmax4

The Uneducated Scholar

He neither attended any college, nor did he go to school He didn’t even know to read and write, I just labelled him as a fool... But when I had a talk with him, he proved me wrong... Behind stupid attire, he possessed knowledge I can never extract, even if I study lifelong... That day I learned an important thing, Harsh realities of life teach you much better, Than what they teach you at school... And if you think you can survive this world only with theoretical knowledge, You are no genius but just an arrogant fool... At last I just want to thank that uneducated scholar, For opening my eyes... And guiding me on the path, That leads to endless knowledge and ultimate truth of life...

14

Blank stares ahead So unengaged No thoughts provoked Make me enraged Only the vines They see swinging back Are traveled and torn By this cumbersome pack No one dares question Is this the best? Monkey see monkey do "Well so says the rest" Can't define their ideals Politics are chatter Philosophy's a dead game Complicated things don't matter "Nothings black and white" Yet oblivious to nuance Forget the golden rule What matters is my wants Refusing education Unsalvageable hypocrisy These hive minded animals Undermine our democracy So extraordinarily capable So grossly unwilling These apes don't realize That it's us that we're killing

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Oct 11, 2015

Oct 11, 2015 at 6:23 AM UTC

callmejoe

Followers

Blank stares ahead So unengaged No thoughts provoked Make me enraged Only the vines They see swinging back Are traveled and torn By this cumbersome pack No one dares question Is this the best? Monkey see monkey do "Well so says the rest" Can't define their ideals Politics are chatter Philosophy's a dead game Complicated things don't matter "Nothings black and white" Yet oblivious to nuance Forget the golden rule What matters is my wants Refusing education Unsalvageable hypocrisy These hive minded animals Undermine our democracy So extraordinarily capable So grossly unwilling These apes don't realize That it's us that we're killing

28

Selfish girls with plastic faces Lacking in all social graces. Reckless boys, the glorified players wearing too much gold Their meager skills have made them bold. They see no harm in their brand of fun, A generation of uneducated doomed to die young. Destroying what remains of their feeble minds A once proud culture left behind. Bought too easily with paper lies Drowning in ***** and ******* highs. Watch as they proudly kiss life goodbye...

0

Jun 2, 2015

Jun 2, 2015 at 5:54 PM UTC

daughter-of-avalon

Generation Lost

Selfish girls with plastic faces Lacking in all social graces. Reckless boys, the glorified players wearing too much gold Their meager skills have made them bold. They see no harm in their brand of fun, A generation of uneducated doomed to die young. Destroying what remains of their feeble minds A once proud culture left behind. Bought too easily with paper lies Drowning in ***** and ******* highs. Watch as they proudly kiss life goodbye...

11

It's simplistically the most painful baring ever, the world is rotating slowly alongside that time, we grow. I sit here not amused with myself, in every form of way, I honestly want to be grateful for everything, but it is never enough for me. I look at the clock going off in my mind, ticking every single second away. I stare at the walls which slowly decorate themselves, but realistically always look the same. I feel myself slowly urging to advance yet never seem to do so. I see myself crying inside, I want to let out yells and I don't know why. A woman can paint her life away, staring at the same objects happily, yet I am here sitting here writing the same **** things over and over until they satisfy me. Why do I stress out on being so perfect to the eyes of others?

0

Feb 13, 2015

Feb 13, 2015 at 9:19 AM UTC

louisa-coller

Painful Lacky

It's simplistically the most painful baring ever, the world is rotating slowly alongside that time, we grow. I sit here not amused with myself, in every form of way, I honestly want to be grateful for everything, but it is never enough for me. I look at the clock going off in my mind, ticking every single second away. I stare at the walls which slowly decorate themselves, but realistically always look the same. I feel myself slowly urging to advance yet never seem to do so. I see myself crying inside, I want to let out yells and I don't know why. A woman can paint her life away, staring at the same objects happily, yet I am here sitting here writing the same **** things over and over until they satisfy me. Why do I stress out on being so perfect to the eyes of others?

15

Or, at least what you might think. Judgement hurts in too many ways to count. I stand in the local thrift market looking for trinkets and such with my father. He came here to look for vintage picture frames, to put up on our pastel coloured walls. He brought me to be a translator, of his broken english. I see the looks some give him, but I am proud of my father. And mad at how our society works. Looking at my father you think, he probably only knows his own mother tongue, no education, bad manners, had lived in poverty before. But you are wrong. An Italian man sits by this booth, selling picture frames. I point and tell my father, and he walks over. "How much for frames?" I taught him how to say that well enough. The Italian man says fluently, "$40 a piece," but behind it you can hear a faint Italian accent. My father hears this and his face lights up, and he replies in Italian, "Great, but can you lower it to $30. For me, man?" The man seemed shocked to see a dark-skinned man, speaks such fluent Italian. The man got up with a smile on his face, and told my father, "Man, I was born in Italy, but you speak it better than me," My dad laughed. Next time you see, a strange man, struggling with his english, stop to think, he might be able to speak to you in, German. Italian. French. And in a tiny bit of Spanish. And of course, his mother tongue. He might have learned the culinary arts, in a world-renounced school. He might be able to do anything. And he might even be a little more impressive, than you will ever be. Judgement hurts. But all it takes is you to stop it.

0

Apr 30, 2014

Apr 30, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC

shyana-sri

A Life of an Uneducated Immigrant

Or, at least what you might think. Judgement hurts in too many ways to count. I stand in the local thrift market looking for trinkets and such with my father. He came here to look for vintage picture frames, to put up on our pastel coloured walls. He brought me to be a translator, of his broken english. I see the looks some give him, but I am proud of my father. And mad at how our society works. Looking at my father you think, he probably only knows his own mother tongue, no education, bad manners, had lived in poverty before. But you are wrong. An Italian man sits by this booth, selling picture frames. I point and tell my father, and he walks over. "How much for frames?" I taught him how to say that well enough. The Italian man says fluently, "$40 a piece," but behind it you can hear a faint Italian accent. My father hears this and his face lights up, and he replies in Italian, "Great, but can you lower it to $30. For me, man?" The man seemed shocked to see a dark-skinned man, speaks such fluent Italian. The man got up with a smile on his face, and told my father, "Man, I was born in Italy, but you speak it better than me," My dad laughed. Next time you see, a strange man, struggling with his english, stop to think, he might be able to speak to you in, German. Italian. French. And in a tiny bit of Spanish. And of course, his mother tongue. He might have learned the culinary arts, in a world-renounced school. He might be able to do anything. And he might even be a little more impressive, than you will ever be. Judgement hurts. But all it takes is you to stop it.

48