"unfairness" poems
Spending a month in a hospital teaches you a lot about people.
The doctor that told me to shave my head or she wouldn't treat me,
The nurses that spent forever chatting to me
And giving me supportive advice about how my illness doesn't define me.
The woman who was given a terminal cancer sentence
And chose not to pay attention to it and defied it anyway.
How she sat next to me on my bed,
Told me that all suffering is valid,
And just because I'm not dying, doesn't mean I don't get to complain.
How she complains more about her skin problems
Than she ever complained about her cancer,
And that's OK, because pain rarely follows rules.
I never even learned her name,
But she gave me the words I hold most closely to me
On those days when I want to fall asleep and never wake up.
I'm allowed to scream and shout and rage against the pain
And the unfairness of it happening to me.
I just have to make sure I know where the line is
Between giving my darkness a voice and pitying myself.
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
To each their own form of bravery
For though this life is an individual test
It is not a challenge of rivalry
All have their hardships
Struggles of pain and unfairness
Working to rise again once being tripped
Do not judge another by what is seen
For bravery is often quiet
Keeping hidden where they've been
There are struggles that you
Will never, ever know
That may be very real to those around you
From physical limitations and disabilities
To emotional pain and despair
Life shows us our certain mortality
The goal is to still appreciate the gift of life
And become a better person
Becoming refined through our strife
So at points when you're low
And especially at points when you're high
Never judge someone, for you never know
Someone you see could be fighting
The fight of their lifetime, so think
Before you assume it's weakness you're sighting
Their fight may have just begun
Or maybe it's been going and going
And they can't last, they're done
No one has the right to judge another's bravery
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
I have been fearing death
since five years old
when people told me stories
of ghosts and graves
I have feared it even more
when I lost someone special
lost someone who raised me
and gave me love for the first time
But I have missed
a terribly important aspect of death
his sibling, change
and he is everywhere, in all forms
I have never feared
anything more than change
for I never liked asking why, how,
and what did I do to deserve this
No one asked for this, but the siblings had
That is when we see the cruelty and unfairness of life
Of how we are not in charge of our own fate
And how it has been laid the moment we were born
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
Up in the crows nest with the hawsers,a steel vest that ran up the ship and fastened itself to the West wind that blew,
sat, Tamale the blue,
so named, because of his dour expression,that was compressed on his features like a cold North depression,
and he wailed at the gales,the unfairness of being, a hangdog of a ****** who saw nothing worth seeing.
The salt etched in deep and slept in his face though the vessel awake,raced on in the night,
Tamale saw nothing until the Bosun cried, 'land of the starboard bow'
too late then, when Tamale awoke,the ship hit the reef line and the hull broke in two,
and Tamale the blue was thrown down to meet his very first day in the depths of the deep.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 5:46 PM UTC
I have started this letter one hundred times. I have referred to you as my friend, my "cousin", my love. No term seems more right than brother, as you have grown with me, and we have lived our parallel lives. I have known you since the day I was born, and I will know you until the day I die. I have long since memorized each freckle on your face, each vein in your hand, each scar on your hip. I am saying this in the hopes that you will understand why it hurt so much when you looked me in the eye and told me to calm down.
As we skipped rocks in the river that runs past my house, you complained to me about the cousin with the crazy feminist ideals. I laughed it off, and tried to reason with you, trying to teach my dear brother a valuable lesson. That's when you stared at me, with those gorgeous, piercing eyes, and you said, "I know women think they don't have rights, but like...just calm down, okay?"
Not okay. It will never be okay. It can't be okay until boys like you stop ignoring our pain. Stop writing off our suffering as hormones and gossip. Stop telling us that our feelings are invalid.
You have always said that I was your little sister. As children, you were the first to teach me how to throw a punch, so I could take care of myself. You were the first to grab me by the hand and whisper, "I will never let anything happen to you."
If you wanted to protect me, if you wanted to love me, if you wanted me to have what you have, you would not ignore the hardships of myself and my sisters. You would not tell me I'm making it up. You would not tell me to calm down. You would not stop until everything really was okay.
I wonder how much you actually know about feminism, and how much you actually know about me. Once I thought you had memorized each piece I have given you, the way I have memorized every curve in your body, and every corner of your brain. I suppose, looking back, you never were the best listener.
The day before you came to me, angry about the unfairness of your parents. I would never say to you, "I know you think it's not fair but like...just calm down, okay?" When you came to me about your anxiety, I would never say, "I know you think it's hard, but like...just calm down, okay?" I would never ignore your words, would never patronize your pain, would never tell you to calm down.
Something inside of me has been broken ever since that day. The day that I realized that my big brother wasn't always the good guy. Some days, he's the villain. Most days, he's part of the problem.
I will always love you. You have been with me since my first breathe, and I'll be ****** if you're not there for my last. I will always listen, always hold you, always love you, always be here for you. But the one thing I refuse to do is dilute my anger for you. I will not sugarcoat my oppression, will not sweep away my sadness. I will not calm down.
And maybe, with you by my side, we could make things be okay.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
Why do people die,
when they have something to live for?
And why do people live,
when they have something to die for?
A woman dies whe she has
children to live for,
And a daughter lives when she has
her brother to die for.
The woman dies of illness,
while her children wander homeless.
The daughter lives in sorrow,
because she could not save her brother's life.
The woman lived in poverty,
so she had no money for doctor or medicine.
The daughter loved her brother,
but it was not quite enough.
Both outcomes are sad.
The children live homeless.
The daughter is depressed
In the end, they die.
Jul 19, 2011
Jul 19, 2011 at 5:20 PM UTC
Imagine alchemist and doctors brought life to mannequins
Question: will we pay them for wearing fashionable trends
Or will they forever be enslaved from beginning to end?
I speak on this because history shows the unfairness of men.
I speak on this because hatred still exist like sin.
Be free mannequin
Be free
What will be the social contract for new life that appear aware
Remember ...
Great Cesar's ghost/ Rise of the planet of the apes -escapes.
Cesar got lock up and spoke signs with an orangutang/ the long arm ape. That was pure sci fi at its best, I mention that movie because I can see the first mannequin arrest.
News at 10:00
Mannequins protest.
Be free mannequin
Be free
Who was meant to be here
You!?
How about you?
Social structure brings forth /false indivisibility.
Segregation because of plastic skin
Sophism due to those who can't see pass what's within.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
Slam that, thy Pen,
if thou doth so please,
in protest to earnest catharses;
Slam that, thy Pen!
Let it all out,
tell them of unfairness brought about
in a mutual way,
as if you are the Victim of outrageous Circumstances
and as if the Past vindicates more recent indiscretions.
-
Slam that, thy Pen,
in the face of yourself;
leave not thy rotting feelings
upon thy mental shelves.
Slam that, thy Pen,
that it may help you overcome.
Slam that, thy Pen,
lest ye be overrun.
Slam that, thy Pen,
in the face of your Pain.
Slam that, thy Pen,
into cathartic gain.
Slam that, thy Pen,
as I know I've done.
Slam thy ******* Pen
It's cathartic and fun.
Thus I implore;
Slam that, thy ******* Pen!
That's what the **** it's for.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 8:29 AM UTC
I haven't told you what you mean to me lately
Perhaps I have forgotten
or didn't have time
I hope you don't think I don't love you anymore
Because I do
You may not realize how much as of late
Seems fate has played some tricks on us
Now it is time to let you know
Just how much I don't want you to go
I appreciate how you take care of me
Love how you are so sure of things
You handle our problems so easily
Making life much better for all of us
I love your smile even when I am not smiling
The feel of your arms holding me
When I don't feel worthy of being held
How you sense my mood even when I don't
You stay with me
When another would have left
I just want you to know
That you mean the world to me
I feel so secure when you hold me
The weight of the world disappears off my shoulders
How much you lift me up
When life has kicked me down again
I am sorry I forgot to say
I love you today
You are so selfless
Providing for us in every way
I know we will survive anything
Judgement, persecution, and the seemingly unfairness in the world
Why?
Because of our love for one another
Hey Love
Just wanting you to know
I return what you give a hundred fold
When you doubt how I feel
Please remind me
Trust that I have not stopped returning your love
If you doubt again
Please please just ask
Hey Love
I love you
All rights reserved 2012
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 1:13 PM UTC
It was one of those unfair things
like scabies or head-lice.
Although it can happen to anybody regardless of precautions
by the time you realize it has happened to you
It is too late.
Despite having no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed,
She was
...and felt awkward too.
Similarly, she wanted to hide herself away from the world until she was cured and rid of the irritation.
Being jilted ******
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
other girls always get the guys who
take the stars out of the sky for them;
guys who wrap their arms
and their love around their shoulders,
keeping them warm at night;
guys who kiss all their bruises better;
guys who’d go anywhere, do anything they ask.
i get the guys whose
rough mouths taste like cigarettes;
guys who only say they love me after ***
guys who don’t touch any other part of me
besides my body;
guys who keep in their shirt pockets a list of girls
and i’m always next to be crossed off.
and every day, i ask myself
why i’m not worthy enough.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 11:02 PM UTC
A strange recipe,
There seems a certain scarceness of plan to it all.
A summarized unfairness found to this madness,
Two parts chaos to each one part life and matter in equal balance.
A slight dose of loss and grievance, coupled with a dash of unpleasant discourse
and equal parts discouragement.
Break two hearts and empty them into the emulsion.
They'll be buried in there,
to be forgotten as individuals
and rendered part of the whole.
Dust with the sweetness of love,
loyalty
and fulfilled longing.
And present it all to someone special,
Only to find they don't like the bitter taste.
-
If each mans life was a dessert,
mine would be a dark cake, dry as the desert.
N.H.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 10:37 AM UTC
I'm aching
The air should not escape the bones that are without you should I feel comfortable with the idea of me being just as empty as this dusty old train
I'm at complete odds
I'm scrambling, my hands shaking for the coldness to dissapear, to be safe.
Unfairness yelled at me from the lights above that made one squint
Hoping each blink id see you next to me.
With the strange sounding man announcing ones home
Your name isn't one
Why oh why
I must scream it my self
As my soul shares yours
my heart pumps your blood
Thriving on only the everything of you. I'm needing you really bad.
but my next stop isn't home
It's place a place of homeless surrounded by souls taken by thing a that do not succeed into the same idea of love.
They can keep trying
But all I need is you
Just you, your humble and sweet kisses and our love tangled together falling asleep with the warmth of home.
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 7:22 AM UTC
Moments in life seldom fair
destiny to some unfair
luck to some coins toss
fate to some never to end loss
a few do bear the unfair pain
the rest doth await for spoils gain
vultures circle a dying prey
human life an unending grey
hurt were the innocent and simple
pains of time lines of old age wrinkle
where doth tis unfairness end
a few till grave in turmoil spend
poor and rich in life unfair
sickness and health in life unfair
many hath asked the question why
yet the answer elusive and shy
held in the heart truth despair
silent tears life unfair
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 2:03 AM UTC
Where there is thunder that reigns
down the emptiness of your flesh,
in a war hidden and filled with apathy,
to sink behind darkness , once named shame.
There it is, the torn kingdom,
that you've claimed as your body.
The temple which you've loved,
but never cared for in those aeons of silence.
*Where you pretended that doing nothing
would solve everything*.
And so you weep, for the unfairness of it all,
as you claw at your already mangled flesh,
and press for the warmth of your heart.
Pretend that the rush of blood is a rolling blanket.
You swallow those shards of glass, and emulate the heavens,
and pretend your body with jagged scars
is the place for honourable heroes; pretend your triumph
in this barren, damp land of storms
is the place where thunder always reigns.
A place for heroes who never won, but died in their place.
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 8:49 AM UTC
**Collaboration with
Arcassin B
SS**
There's someone
On Capitol Hill
There amongst the
***** and swill
Got your number
On a bill
They've SOLD OUT
For a thrill
Every vice
Martinis chilled
You are just
View to a ****
Someone up there
Privatized
Someone up there
Just said "Aye"
Someone up there
Told some lies
Someone up there
Has some eyes
Someone up there
In the skies
Someone up there
Wants to pry
Someone up there
Makes you cry
Someone up there
Makes you die..
AB
While the toetag still
Keeps you alive,
All the unfairness
Becomes deprived,
Exposed and identified,
What's the Pentagon up to,
They about to have
New nation full of immigrants,
What are you gonna do,
Plotting the demise,
Subliminals in your eyes,
You wonder how the people
Broke off pride,
Someone up there
Demoralized
Someone up there
In disguise
Someone up there
Serve without pay
Someone up there
Love one's die
Someone up there
Don't act surprised
Someone up there
No time to be shy
Someone up there
Don't want this life.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC
I am angry in my grave,
Filled with disappointment, animosity, disbelief, and resentment,
Blacks had no rights, Blacks had no freedom,
Whites had the rights, and whites were the leaders,
Until I chose not to abide by the regulations of inequality,
And led the Civil Rights Movement,
Fought conflicts with kindness,
Opposed to Hatred and violence,
And tolerance between the two ethnicities was born
But why?
For the non-colored and colored could equally cause treason?
Or for racism to still apply in many communities?
I fought for no discrimination.
That doesn’t mean to enslave each other, cause disruption, unfairness, and deaths within the same race.
Gangs committing murders because they feel certain things are out of place,
Pilots flying planes into towers,
20 innocent children being massacred,
Drug dealers smuggling crack in homes,
All I see upon my grave is what I devoted my life to being destroyed.
For that,
I am angry in my Grave.
“But Dr. King, things have changed. Blacks and whites can be friends, and we even have a BLACK PRESIDENT.”
Yes, but you have to acknowledge the fact Obama agreed,
And supported what I stood for.
I was a pastor,
A pastor who used the Bible as my Code of Conduct,
A Bible in which Obama laid his right hand on
And sworn on during his inauguration,
While with his left hand, he’s supporting,
Adam and Steve, and babies saying goodbye before they leave their mother’s Womb.
For that,
I am angry.
“Martin Luther King will never be forgotten and his morals will be followed. He was a great leader and may he rest in peace.”
How can I?
Each day in my grave I mourn,
I’m frustrated and disgusted,
If I were still alive til this day,
My tears would flood America,
I would speak amongst the country and say,
You have been indoctrinated by the wickedness of mankind,
Propaganda is being embedded to get wrong points acrossed,
For that, I will continue and forever be,
Angry in my Grave.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
A message to the boy minding the pastry,
one finger in each the webs
of cosmic lust and mercy,
waiting to be told it is fine to want
the best for everybody:
It is fine. It is fine.
What are you?
Were you born here?
No, I was born on the banks of the Seine,
beside the boneyard of the nameless,
in the pits of Delhi with
the blood of roosters on my toes,
***** who pecked one another
to their entrails because the
colony of the living sunrise was
shrunk to a pocket of feathers and fire
by some wire, wood, and staples.
I was born in the Academy of Athens,
where Socrates made salsa with hemlock
and danced into a dialogue,
because the grocery habaneros were all too tender,
and St. Augustine could offer no alternative.
Never forget - we were born to unfairness;
unfair as long as our appetites differ,
or we exhaust sooner than one another,
or we grip one another differently and come at different times.
The only person less fair than me is God.
But my justice - that is perfect,
like my voice, which has none of a gavel's
authority. Or my heart: which was manacled by giants
and sentenced to be pecked by a flying poem, a girl
with hair she won't comb, a song about Jerusalem.
Fair. **** fair.
I am fair as long as I can wait, quiet -
silent as the sand, sunburned and happy,
to be drawn into
that kindness, the Atlantic - - -
the flip and twist of the sea.
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 4:01 PM UTC
How dare you make fun of my dead friend?
How dare you?
How dare you use his death as an excuse to say that you're happier than me?
How dare you?
Death isn't funny, and it's not something to use
Against someone.
How dare you?
It's not something to mess around with to gain sympathy,
Or to make yourself feel better simply because
You don't like someone.
How. Dare. You.
The rage I'm feeling at the Universe we live in,
Is not directed at anything.
Except for the unfairness of life and how life
Takes the things we love most.
How dare you use that against me?
H O W D A R E Y O U
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
Growing up, a girl watches, learns,
The truths of boys and men—
so often unturned.
“Boys will be boys,”
a phrase we know,
implying girls must shoulder the load.
Girls mature fast,
women pick up the cast—
an unspoken burden, a silent decree:
Bear the weight of their irresponsibility.
In a world gripped by misogyny,
women face judgment,
their futures unclasped.
Absorbing shame for games they play,
men walk away, free to go their way.
Homes abandoned,
men now free,
their true selves unknown.
Disgrace drapes women—a heavy yoke,
neglect shatters hope.
Promises unkept,
fathers vanish as children wept.
Guilt escaped with practiced ease,
duty dodged, a ghost on the breeze.
Children and wife he never knew,
society laughs at the pain he withdrew.
Children carry his woes—
identities shaped by the hurt he chose.
Shame shouldered early,
remembering blame.
Love claimed,
but never there.
Strain felt in his name,
unfairness echoes.
Abandoned women and children grow—
a daunting endeavor men overthrow.
Shadows linger, burdens remain;
a future carved where hope will maintain.
Every struggle faced—a dawn,
strength carries on.
Nov 10, 2024
Nov 10, 2024 at 11:24 PM UTC
How could this have happened?
Life took its time and tortured me.
Taunting, malicious, evil.
I lived a melancholy life.
The people weren’t enough.
I desired more.
I desired love.
I desired my other half.
Just when I thought I was forever alone,
Unexpectedly, he appeared.
He cared, gave me his everything.
He took his time with me.
I should’ve recognized the foreboding.
We all want happiness, no one wants pain,
But we can’t have a rainbow without a little rain.
Even then, rainbows don’t last forever.
Life,
You’re wicked.
You want to hurt me.
When I wanted to pick a fight, You started running.
You don’t care about me.
You don’t care about young love.
Ripping my heart out.
Tearing apart his.
When someone thinks of you, life,
They think of you being balanced.
A sprinkle of unfairness,
A sprinkle of happiness.
You surprised all the guileless ones
You are judicious; an ill-humored dowdy.
Maybe you’re just a querulous old women,
Tired of ignorant pests.
Or maybe you were just born with a blackened heart.
But, now when I ask you for a reason why,
You curl up in a ball, roll away and let me cry.
What a coward.
Conniving little *****
What comes around goes around,
You’ll get your share,
Three times worse.
Think you’re so contumacious?
What is it?
You desired more?
You desired love?
You desired someone else?
Are you jealous?
Don’t be tremulous about the topic.
Something will happen to you…
Your soul mate awaits you,
But for now,
Please, be kind to me.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 4:01 AM UTC
He can say it,
he can flaunt it,
he can live it,
he can walk it,
while talking it.
If his heart is changed, it will not beat different,
If he has become less arrogant and more diffident,
Time will tell.
I will not judge the change,
I will not think it strange,
if he found Jesus.
The other option is Hell.
Let that rest heavy on his brow,
how is his head hanging, can he
feel the heat of remorse?
Her friends are heroes in my books,
you had the courage it took.
To face him on her behalf,
She was there with you in court,
I think she helped you to do,
no I am wrong,
you were all strong,
and you saw an innocent perish,
that screamed of unfairness and death,
you all stood up for her,
it may not have seemed enough,
as she did die, did part of you go with her?
we cannot measure how much you
all cried, when doing and trying was not enough.
The best place for her would be with you, sigh,
some say she will always be watching over too.
I believe in eternal life for innocents like her.
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
A call changed my life.
I can hear her voice shaking, grumbling about the unfairness of life.
It has caught me in a daze of unexpected news, of an unexpected loss.
Life has cheated my faith once more, taking his soul to a restful haze.
But his journey just started, life is more than a physical presence.
He is now in a spiritual journey, in a mystical paradise of eternal happiness.
My tears are his new ways of caressing my cheeks.
My numbness his way of hugging my veins stopping with it all my blood flow.
The blood that carries his name and genes through rivers of crystallized waters.
Making each drop of blood a diamond of inherited richness.
He will now be my life companion.
My only confidant.
My only light.
My only serenity.
My only joyfulness.
My only guide to a peaceful life.
You are now the ink of these words I write, the message behind each line.
You are now my purpose for life, my biggest light of sunbeam that each morning shines.
You are now my ANGEL, embracing me, with each breeze mother nature gives me.
Making everything less painful.
My life will forever smile while looking up at the sky.
Just let me know how glorious your life is now, resting your head on clouds.
Our vows, will forever make me proud.
Making your memories into beautiful sounds.
And healing with it the wounds you left, when you decided to fly.
Just let me know how heaven feels.
Grandpa.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC