"empowerment" poems
I'm not perfect,
I know I'll never be.
I still strive for perfection,
Something I'll never have.
Society wants perfection,
Even when it says it doesn't.
Just look at ads,
Movies,
Even vegetables have to look good,
For stores to sell them.
How can anyone or anything ever be good enough when held up against something unachievable?
Something not even the seemingly perfect people have or are,
Something we all know is impossible,
But we have heard that everything is possible,
So some of us never give up,
It will never make us happy
And it will never happen.
The only way is to accept imperfections,
Accept not being perfect,
Accept being you,
Accept being different
And accept life as it is.
I'm not saying give up on your dreams,
I'm saying don't make yourself something you're not,
this ideal that you have in your head that is unattainable,
this person that's so perfect that moving towards it becomes an obsession and addiction towards unhappiness, low selfesteem, depression and never feeling good enough no matter what you do or how hard you try.
I know it's cliche, but love yourself!
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 7:01 PM UTC
I'm craving a man-hug tonight,
initiated by strong arms picking up my under weight body
letting me believe I'm re-enacting the lift from ***** dancing.
And as those arms hold me close
I would bury my face in his neck
where after shave meets his soft pulse and the warmth of my breath.
This hug would be so tight,
tight enough to squeeze the pain out of my soul
and be incredibly protective at the same time
beating away the nightmares of reality late at night.
A hug that draws out all the tears that should have been cried
until my eyes run dry
and start shedding all the rejection accumulated throughout this plight.
An unconditional man-hug with its ends free,
one not subjected to a **** in my mouth
a cigarette
*****
a cigarette
couple of poems
insomnia
and a cold bed.
I crave for a man-hug that will liberate me
from the pathetic standards I've set for myself,
of how I should be treated before handing a piece of me in exchange.
One that would numb the little voice in my head
which goes on and on
about self-deprecating ********
bundling together all the mistakes made over the years
and spanking my self-confidence
until it dresses up in a short skirt and high heels
and runs into the arms of a narcissist *****
A man-hug to step in and save the day
when loneliness breaks in,
and murders empowerment, independence and positivity in their sleep,
then opens the door to insecurity and fear,
who robs all hope,
leaving behind intolerable darkness.
I crave for a man-hug that follows through to the end
with stability and consistency,
like mom's cooking or my best friend,
or daddy's instant reaction to defend.
One that's tangible and attainable
without twirling my fingers around forgotten jewellery,
phone messages
or a drunk memory
just to remind myself what it felt like,
but only to be reminded that it can never be felt again.
Though I'm craving a man-hug tonight
I will have no luck.
Because anything with "man" in front of it,
will always just be a ****
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 5:35 PM UTC
Society sells beautiful lies,
Emphasis on the beautiful,
They sell you the definition of beauty in
small pictures,
small ads,
small sizes.
Spinning the world on a string,
They've got us all fooled.
Telling teens they don't need to eat,
"Skip the food today,
be beautiful tomorrow".
Selling the idea that beauty can replace sorrows.
Society sells the idea that beauty is empowerment.
Society sells the idea that if you are beautiful,
then you could have the world on a string.
These lies lead our leaders of tomorrow into disarray.
Sell us the idea that if we are beautiful
today will be better than yesterday.
But the empty promises lead us all astray,
Abandoned on street corners begging for scraps,
because we didn't think we felt empowerment.
Society sells small,
Society sells beauty,
Society sells small.
Small models,
Small manikins,
Small sizes.
Spinning the world on a string,
Society sells the idea that the size of your waist,
defines how beautiful you are.
Society sells the idea that beauty
is empowerment.
Society sells small.
Society sells the idea that if you are not small,
you are not **empowered,
ugly,
waste of space.**
Society sells small.
Society says beauty is empowerment.
These lies lead our leaders of tomorrow into disarray,
Too many teens today are to prone to facings their problems with razor blades,
Because today was not better than yesterday.
Then tomorrow won't be either.
Society sells small,
small pictures,
small ads,
small manikins.
Society sells protruding plastic ribs,
ribs sharp enough to cut paper.
Society sells the figures of the sick and dying.
Society sells small.
Small enough to be drop dead gorgeous,
Emphasis on the drop dead,
Society sells women who are severely underfed.
Society sells women suffering from malnutrition.
Since when did this become tradition?
Since when was fragile stature empowering?
Society sells skin and bones.
Society sells so small,
women are literally dying to feel beautiful.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
you ‘why’ her.
While she is thrilled & happily beside you,
Telling you when she’s up to something new.
Your pre-existing notion of setting a “ya” for her limits,
Persistent "no" to her wishes,
She grows up to know that,
if she got to do something new
She got to fight over the, 5 Ws & 1 H!
Ow! & you convince it’s out of distress not mistrust!
And by the Indian parenting manual,
questionnaire weighs heavier at a girl.
ultimately,
“This time”, “That day”,
" This place", “Those people”
Would impregnate her!
Sons of yours -
Son of nights! freely hatching eggs past curfew.
Not foreseeing the evenings his sister would come crying.
Parents when you talk on equality & empowerment,
Let broad mind not hit the very ceiling of your house
Let rest mindset that proclaims gender roles,
The differential idea you set on them,
From who uses broom to who chooses groom.
If misogyny is permeated in the roots of society
Cleansing and changing begins in the family,
Before there in your minds, first.
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 12:39 AM UTC
Platonic Love Song
The wind in our hair as our lungs work
Screaming out the lyrics to a teenage summer
As we drive free, racing, to the waves and mountains
Lights in our eyes and hands over hearts
Youthful yearning fills us, as we get caught chasing the sky
Her laughter fills my soul and she begins to dance
While she wraps her arms around me, safe
A fire blazes, but our smiles are what light up the night
We make the stars jealous,
They beg for half of our shine
Embers and vapour fill the air,
Hands trading drinks and smoke and care
Music floats and lyrics sink in
Lips trading stories and laughter and kisses
Engines start, stop, jump, and rumble
Her eyes gleam and shift, catching attention
Hypnotising and beautiful,
They draw us in, keep us safe, and we ask to stay.
Let yourself love your friends. Let yourself stay with them.
She pumps music into our lives, her voice loud
We dance to the wild tempo of our heartbeats
Crass and catching, her voice settles in us
Let people in, even when it’s hard. Let yourself love them.
She scrunches her face up and tosses in jokes,
Making us smile at any price,
She helps us laugh the pain away.
Let people love you back.
I know it can be hard but...
She covers her smile with a hand,
Else she’d blind us, but we’d be alright,
If that could be the last thing we see
If you aren’t in love with your friends, where is your absolution?
She swings her hips and we get lost in her lips,
The gold on her skin, the brown in her eyes,
Entrancing on a new level, and we exalt
If you aren’t in love with your friends, then something is wrong.
She grabs our hands, reviving and vital,
Her shoulders jump and so do we, she’s got us on our feet
Her energy is infections, makes us forget imperfection.
If you aren’t in love with your friends, where are you spending your time?
Existing in a different state, but in the same hearts,
And we are all staring at the same jealous stars.
She feels like a home you’ve never been too.
If you aren’t in love with your friends, then you’re not doing it right.
Because for me, they define ride or die,
The first loves of my life, they mean open
Open arms, open homes, open hearts
They are coffee in the cold and make up in the night,
Empowerment in the dark and hope in the now.
Love isn’t just for spouses and partners,
Love is for those who you know with your heart,
Who’s soul touched yours, and said,
“Hey, it’s been a while. I missed you.”
And if you haven’t felt that yet then I’m sorry,
But don’t worry, you’ll find them.
And when you do, it will be like coming home.
And you’ll know.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
I.
“No doubt they’ll sing in tune after the Revolution.”
-Kamarovsky, Doctor Zhivago (film)
Everyone seems to clench his fist these days
In solidarity with ephemera
While setting fire to green recycling bins
Hurling someone else’s bicycle through a window
Armed with their undergraduate degrees
The comrades liberate a coffee shop
Wifi-ing the revolution of the day
Empowerment by beating love to death
Loudsplaining authentic victimization
Posing for selfies with a stolen ‘phone
II.
Their inhumanity seemed a marvel of class-consciousness, their barbarism a model of proletarian firmness…
-Doctor Zhivago, p. 349
Everyone seems to clutch his flag these days
In solidarity with a past that wasn’t
While setting fire to misspelled cardboard signs
Hurling someone else’s beer into a crowd
Armed with their lurid Confederate tats
The Something.Right liberate a dumpster
Bull-horning the counter-revolution
Empowerment by beating love to death
Bellowing their Reconquista of stench
Posing behind their cheap gas station shades
III.
“I used to admire your poetry...I shouldn't admire it now. I should find it absurdly personal. Don't you agree? Feelings, insights, affections... it's suddenly trivial now. You don't agree; you're wrong. The personal life is dead…”
-Strelnikov to Yuri, Doctor Zhivago (film)
Some few embrace civilization these days
In solidarity with humanity
While lighting one small candle as a votive
Whispering an Ave into the Light
Armed with wonder through pen and flute and brush
Recusants choose the liberation given
In singing of the eternal verities
Self-empowerment happily denied
With love, with poetry, music, and art
Celebrating life on this summer day
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC
I think it's my eyes.
The glowing hazle stare
blankly piercing through
whatever bubbles you've shielded
yourself with.
Arms crossed means you're defensive,
raised tone towards the end of a sentence
means you're lying
but when your lips scrunch together
you're holding back something.
Maybe it's
my thought process.
One second
I'm talking about polar bears
celebrating birthdays with ******* and hexagrams
when I shift
to a rant about my self empowerment
through meditation and how astral travel
might be real.
Perhaps I'm too comfortable
with myself for you to handle.
I don't give a **** how tangled my hair is
or what weird religious doctrines you follow.
Let's have a conversation,
not an unruly **** measuring contest.
I truly love you,
and all my mild frustration
and slight agitation is radiating
from a place in my heart
that tells me I want you to succeed the most.
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 6:21 PM UTC
☮ ☮ ☮
**Society needs more Social Justice.
Humanity needs peaceworkers.**
Peace and Social Justice must be promoted aggressively. There are inequities that must be addressed. Power is not equally distributed. Neither are resources or wealth. Neither are poetic gifts or vision equitably distributed. Unearned privilege is rampant. Poetry must confront this global crisis of capitalist exploitation and manipulation. Poetry must speak to the masses. Poetry must radicalize and inform consciousness to new levels of social change. Marginalized citizens must be empowered. All ****** gender-based, racial, religious, age-based, homophobic, xenophobic, and gynophobic bigots must be brought to see in a new way through our poetry. Community building and local empowerment are of the order. Our poetry must be global in scope – yet rooted and grounded in local community empowerment. Selfless acts of service to promote and increase Social Justice are needed. Lives selflessly devoted to establishing social justice are called for. Our poetic lives must be laid on the altar of the dis-enfranchised and unrepresented. We, as consciously aware poets, must advocate and speak out for those who have no voice.
We, as poets, must, through stirring words of Social Justice, embody through our radical verses the burning hope of a just and sustainable future. This future must become increasingly collective as formerly marginalized consumers become empowered community-builders – through our poetry. As poets of the sustainable future we will empower and inform. Our poetry must collectivize, entitle and enslave. We must speak with ONE VOICE: the voice of change and social justice. Our words will rise with healing in their wings and lift whole communities from despair to radicalized self-awareness in communities filled with strident, intolerant and maniacal practitioners of PEACE & SOCIAL JUSTICE. All poets who do not lay their entire creative and lyrical selves on the altar of struggle to bring CHANGE and SOCIAL JUSTICE will be LIQUIDATED by our own EMPOWERED POETRY. IN THE END WE WILL WRITE A PURE POETRY OF SOCIAL CHANGE, ALL IN CAPS, AND THIS POETRY OF SOCIAL JUSTICE AND EMPOWERMENT WILL BE READ OVER THE GRAVES OF ALL SELL-OUT, CORPORATE, FASCIST, SNITCHING, SELFISH, UNEMPOWERED AND UNEMPOWERING TRAITORS AND ENEMIES OF SOCIAL JUSTICE. IN THE END THERE WILL BE NO PUNCTUATION OR EVEN WORDS ONLY PURE IMAGES OF CHANGE + VISIONARY COLLABORATION IN SOCIAL TRANSFORMATION/MAYBE SLASH MARKS/OKAY MAYBE EXCLAMATION POINTS TOO BUT ONLY THOSE !
WHY? BECAUSE THE ONLY GOOD POET IS A LIVING POET WHO HAS LIQUIDATED EVERY FALSE POET NOT COMMITTED TO THE STRUGGLE FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE !
LONG LIVE POETRY IN ACTION THROUGH CHANGE!
WRITE/SPEAK/AGITATE
FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE & EMPOWERMENT !
**POETRY IS STRUGGLE☻
STRUGGLE IS CHANGE☻
CHANGE REQUIRES SOCIAL JUSTICE☻
SOCIAL JUSTICE BRINGS PEACE☻
PEACE BRINGS WAR☻
WAR BRINGS CONFUSION & DEATH☻**
(SO DON’T BE CONFUSED)
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
“It’s a Girl.” They said,
Destined to go to her ‘own’ home one day,
As if she is born into a strangers home.
Marriage has its own time,
Why make her birth seem like a crime?
Do give her the unconditional love but don’t consider her a bad luck.
“Who will bring forward the family name? She will bring only a shame”, they said
Destined to go to her ‘own’ home one day,
As if she is born into a strangers home.
If that were the case,
Ashamed are parents who gave birth to,
Kalpana Chawla, Asha Roy, Arundhati Battacharya and many more.
Worried about the family name?
Bring her out of the shallow box,
Filled with your narrow thoughts,
Help her reach her full potential,
Then watch the family name gain credentials.
“Do what he tells you to.” They said,
That is your house,
He is your everything.
From her, kings are born,
From her, woman is born,
Without her, there would be nobody at all,
So why then do we make her a slave?
Likes, shares, tweets and re-tweets can only do so much…
Empower your thoughts and not just the woman,
Teach your son to respect the girls,
Allow your daughters to reach their passion,
Then watch the empowerment take action.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 1:15 PM UTC
Women aren't defined by their beauty. Woman are strong! And a woman can equally do the same things a man can do. Woman have evolved from following the idea of cult of domesticity and fearing to speak out but today we can be anything we set our minds too. Today is the day where we put an end to being quiet even when we know the answer like we were trained to. Today is the day where we compliment each others body before questioning our own beauty. Instead of body shaming we should embrace the fact that all women are different. Women shouldn't be afraid to wear anything because women are not property. As a society we shouldn't blame women for getting **** because we wore "something revealing". Instead we should all raise men and women the same !
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 1:37 AM UTC
It comes down to this single moment
Sitting here lazily on my bed
Unable to decide, whether or not
To feel sadness or depression
Perhaps what I should be feeling is relief
What I'd rather be feeling is empowerment
To remain hopeful, despite the odds
But I can't decide
How can I be sure of how my story ends
Am I to live out one of the most historical love stories of all time
Which character was I meant to be
A common man, bound for common love
I'd rather be the uncommon man
Who fights for something greater than just common love
How can I be sure though
Would I fight for victory or tragedy
Would I be a good common man
With a simple and meaningful life
Or would the taste of battle never leave my tongue
Making me regretful, of what could have been
Common men are necessary
They're the majority
They keep the uncommon man alive
Telling their children about great
Battles of courage
Battles of victory
And those of failure
Am I to tell my children of these stories
Am "I" meant to raise the uncommon men
Or did my mother raise me to be more than just the common man
"I am meant for greatness"
"I am uncommon"
"I am hopeful, despite the odds"
"My story will be worth telling"
"I fight for Love"
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
Empowerment is to stop begging you to come home,
self love is realising a soulmate would never leave you alone,
happiness is letting the loneliness fade,
fulfilment is realising the best lives are self made.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
A shoe that fits no longer
change blowing through the open doors
A rhythm that springs from my core:
My shoe it fits no more
My shoe it fits no more
My shoe it fits no more
Stripped from expectations
guided by a vision
A whisper from the void:
The empowerment of choice
The empowerment of choice
The empowerment of choice
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 1:48 PM UTC
she has spent eternities despising herself
searching in the mirror for the existence
of an ethereal reflection
staring back into her ocean eyes
whispering soft lullabies
an abundance of external lies
for it could never match
the true beauty and radiance
that resides inside
the most impeccable love story
is the one she holds with herself
for when she comes to realize
the resiliency of her bones
the captivation of her words
the radiance of her dance
and the effervescence of her energy
she drips in empowerment
like sweet honey
drips from the wildflower
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 1:14 AM UTC
****** empowers those who flaunt
the shape imbued by deity
by wide degree that willingness
to express beauty’s form
empowerment becomes the goal
once a choice is expressed
by displaying more or less
skin’s gamut is then blessed
divestment of draped attire
spans the spectrum from slight to all
whether the ankle only shows
or lack of raiment is complete
that span is chosen by the self
society is asked to stand mute
don't suggest what should be
except to honor certitude
the superficial or complete
exhibition is the private trek
played out in public without remorse
rejoice for those who made their choice
skin as sanction to celebrate
costumes bent to serve a will
no longer hiding the natural
****** displaying love of self.
© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180907.
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
She wears:
Skimpy dress.
Tight shirt.
Short skirt.
I say:
Women shouldn't have to.
I give:
Empowerment.
You say:
But men do too.
Bare chest.
V lines.
I say:
Yes but--
You say:
No but.
Society holds it's grip on women.
Suffocating us everyday.
Fitting us into boxes each day.
Telling me what to wear,
How to do my hair.
Forcing paint upon my face to give
Me a face unrecognized.
Rewrite my name to something seductive,
Marilyn.
Regina.
Not the name given to me,
Hard to pronounce and
Not found on a gift shop key chain.
So I tell society to take their standards
And shove them
Because I will not be like the girl on the bus
With scars and cuts across her arm.
"Fat *** carved into her porcelain skin.
Dear Society,
I am me. I am not you.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC
He asked about me in the first meeting.
he was so curious to know the whole time, we were talking.
what should I tell, what should I hide?
my life is so confusing it never was a joyride.
being emotional, I end up hurting.
I am not the one who loves flirting.
believe in giving all or nothing
every time it's easy for me to trusting.
failed so many time yet not learning,
As soon as I become comfortable life starts turning.
got ditched so many times still friendly.
Always fall in Pitts more than deadly
Low in confidence, thinking negative.
serve myself for people to take benefit.
knowing yet not doing anything for the betterment
world is moving fast and talk about empowerment.
with all these flaws I still, love myself
those who cheat will pay themself.
I won't change, I never become you.
will always be loyal and to myself true.
Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 4:17 AM UTC
I once read the lines
“Practically on top of us
is a girl
with long brown hair
a black hoodie
and the tightest jeans I have ever seen
I automatically hate her
because those jeans
make her look good”
From a book
This mentality bothers me
I mean
Why can't we
Admire another girl's beauty
Instead of becoming jealous
Or envious of it
While attempting to find
A flaw of theirs
To counteract their beauty
Why can't we just appreciate it
While loving ourselves
Completely
Without making ourselves feel less
Important
Or desirable
Or worthy
Because they have something
That is "better"
Which is entirely subjective
Due to the fact
That there are many opinions
Of what being beautiful
Aesthetically means
Since there are many people
In this world
Which in itself
Is beautiful
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 9:48 PM UTC
I have a right to stand
I'm claiming it now.
Turangawaewae; 'a place to stand'
Is a deep empowerment from the land
Learnt through ancestral connection
Strengthened through ahi ka; 'keeping the fires burning'
Well, my ancestral stories ain't so impressive
There were few battles
Though my granddad worked for the air force in world war two
- As an accountant
We didn't encounter the gods or try to bring down the sun
Though when my Grandma arrived here she built up the soil
Soul of the Earth
For 70 years
As the city sprang up around her
And my mother aged 11 played follow the leader with a goat in the next door construction site
Where her house is now
My uncle found an old mans false teeth in a cup
Climbing through an abandoned house
My aunt visited James K Baxter's Jerusalem
She wasn't a fan of his poetry
But his wisdom spoke to her
My other aunts jumped through the neighbours trees
Who threatened to shoot them
My father followed my mother here
After her O.E with my sister in the oven
He ******* about John Key as much as anyone
And praises this land; it is home.
I stood on a windy cliff surrounded by pohutukawa and learnt the whisper of the sea
Roughing it on an island I tried determinedly to turn into a pukeko
I got my first cut, bruise, scrape from this land
My first breath, poem, touch of a violin, my first kiss was here
I know the rough patches, the fringe scene, where the best soil is
(It's at my grams house)
I know how to spot a drug house, which cafes will let us jam, where the open mics are 5 days of the week.
I know Kirikiriroa.
My fires have been burning
And I have a right to stand
I have learnt through my own evolution
Through Janet Frame's railroad country
Through a history
Cities growing and spreading
They weren't just here
As it has always seemed to me.
The countryside, what was here before?
Landscapes of forest and mountain
Familiar yet unknown to me.
When I go away I will know the difference
When I return I will know this land
The depth recognized through contrast
Defined by difference
As the sun and moon complement
Light and dark
Sorrow and joy
And,
As in yin and yang
I will know nothing is completely separate.
When I go away I will know
So fully
And I will return and say:
This is my place to stand
My turangawaewae
My Aotearoa
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
Enlightenment is so frail
without Empowerment.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 1:04 AM UTC
We spoke
like a light mist of rain
quenching the thirst of these grounds
and I reached out my hand
and dragged him away from the blood hounds
stripping away his ego
along with his clothes
which masked his vulnerability
I teach one to let go
he said I can't help this feeling
through his tears and mental exhaustion
with whispers of fear
the darkness had consumed him
and in a moment of clarity I spoke with honesty
he had decieved himself
everyone can help whatever feeling enraptures them
feeling down and out is a product of your own resolution
each thought we have can be chosen
and the world around you has no power over the mind
unless you allow it
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 11:41 AM UTC
You see her there
Right in the middle
Between innocent youth
And tired old age
The redhead
The harlot
Open
Welcoming
Eternal
You see your fantasies
In her mysterious gaze
Your carnal longings
In the fire of her hair
Open
Alluring
Mature
You see her confidence
In her ***
Her experience
Her empowerment
Open
Provocative
Determined
You see what she'll do
To you
You see her
Touching
Lustfully luring you in
You see her
The redhead
The harlot
Your mistress
She is there
In the middle
Between youth
And old age
Always
I am her
I am here
I am eternal
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
It was a really long time ago,
When everyone used to walk naked,
tanned, baked in the sun.
But in the recent times, all those moments are over, all that time is done.
Short clothed, women think they look extravagant,
But right now walking through these Indian roads wearing them seems to be a bit irrelevant.
Raise a voice and men try to shut it down ,
Respect from a husband only lasts until the wife wears that white gown.
Mothers at home crying, stressed,
And out of regret they beat their *******
Only living for the sake of their children, hoping that at least they'll get some respect out of them,
But now all that's over, all that's gone.
In the recent times women have kind of lost their fear,
Deep inside a beast is rising for the betterment,
Now the ending of those sorrows are near.
Now is the beginning of women empowerment.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
He empowers me
Has me feeling I can conquer anything
Do I love him?
No,
But a certain kind of respect
And a clear sign of acknowledgment
Must be given
When he speaks
And when he listens.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
Growth, empowerment, love.
Words of our generation,
Words we can't get rid off.
Should we try to? No.
Look within,
Feel your heart grow.
Love yourself, it's deserved.
No matter what anyone says,
It should not be curbed.
Hate, oppression. It is all rife.
My dear one, don't forget,
You get to live your best life.
If people turn and say nay,
Don't panic, do not worry,
I promise, they're not here to stay.
Growth, empowerment, love.
All treasured things,
That you can be proud of.
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 6:05 PM UTC