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They ask, why care so much?
Simple, my ancestors blood and bones
are the foundation of this nation.

But that isn't your blood or mine?
We have come a long way!
True but broken chains
don't free us from shackles,
and half measures
can’t get us across the finish line.

If you hate it so much leave!
In case you missed point one
I'd much rather fix what's broken.
I want to make sure that the stacked deck
is reshuffled. That kids don't have to grow up
in war zones, where the only way out is debt
or a casket. Where people don’t get to profit
from the very thing that took others freedom.
I want a playing field that all can use,
where the rules make sense and the enforcers
are kind. Where I'm not the oddity
for never having been behind bars.
That people realize that there's more
to our culture than our bars.
I'm over the 40 acres
I want 24 Oscar's. Maybe then I'll see
myself on more than just ESPN and MTV.

Others have it far worse than you!
Well then let's elevate them too.
A rising tide raises all ships.
So let's create a flood that washes
out the hate. When will people realize
that we aren't enemies. That the system
crushing you is already destroying me.
If they can put people in cages for where
they were born then Eastside or south
of the border are just bad hands we are dealt.
I don’t know how to fix it
but I care too much to be quiet.
So thanks for reading my thoughts,
but will you stay silent?
My raw feelings this Juneteenth 2019
Sachiko Jun 2019
I am a girl.
Being seen as a delicate flower.
Too many rules to follow.
In order to be respected in the eyes of the people.
I am an object of lust and desire.
I have to be careful not to be criticized.
My purity is my treasure.
When it’s gone I was being inappropriate.
My body has a lot of functions.
But mostly men crave for it.
And that’s for satisfaction.
There’s a distinction between “She and He”.
A level of authority is given from men.
Purity is not valid.
It’s their ego that is most essential.
I am strong even I’m emotionally weak.
Because I am a man.
Society makes this concrete description.
How to behave in according to our particular gender.
Men and Women should be treated with equality.
No one is less or more.
And today what are we going to do to stand with this point?
Byerly Jun 2019
The tears that were cried
The blood that was spilled
The sacrifice that was made
Are all the colors in the rainbow
Infinite wars for love and equality
You can see the highlight in the sky
As people dance with icons playing along
Diversity was written since the begining of times
It was put to some people  the hardest test to prove braveness
The fear to love will be no longer tolerated
We need somebody to call us "home"
We will resist, like we did in the old times
"WE REFUSE TO BE INVISIBLE" they shout
Holding flags and rainbows and colors and love.
Destroy traditions and create a new one
A new one where no one is afraid to be who they are.
"How can people hate this?" I ask myself
Dont hide away your scars
Instead show them with pride
Every king, queen, and leader has scars that are signs of a winned battle
We are warriors and we are comming stronger
Today is june 1
Aka the first day of pride month
Happy pride month!!!
ria May 2019
Who am I?
I must be black because my absent father won’t come back.
I am eccentric. I am authentic.
I am something you would never forget to mention.
I am a Black woman.

Who do you want me to be?
I must be Asian because with eyes like these I can solve any equation.
I am intelligent. I am pure elegance.
I am delicate.
I am an Asian woman.

Who do you think I am?
I must be Hispanic because my last name simply states it.
I am diligent. I am militant.
I am an immigrant.
I am a Hispanic woman.

Who should I be?
I may be white by culture, but not by sight.
I am privileged. I am a perfect image.
I have no limits.
I am a White woman.

On paper, the box I checked says Asian,
But sometimes I forget.
What if my race isn't solo, or singular?
It’s a duet—or even a quartet.
My race is tricolor—sometimes invisible.
My race isn't inside, and no, it's not physical.

What if my race is the rushing water of the Mississippi river?
The river just flows and flows—
Runs wherever it may go,
But some are quiet as they trickle in;
Drop by drop a new river begins,
As the water mixes, roaring free.
If you want to label my race, fine, label me.
Label my hair, my customs, or my speech.
Race is just a rumor that mankind decided to teach.

I wish I could forget that I have a race,
That the color is still staining my face.
I'm tired of the separation,
The segregation, the humiliation,
The exhaustion of having a race.
Why label the color on my skin?
Why not embrace the person that I hold within?


*R.A.C.E. stands for Reclassify All Children Equally.
How can the vibrations
Of the screaming
And broken
Balance the world

Why must the gunfire
Act as an antidote
For the anger
Brought upon ourselves

Why must we judge
What others become
Starting wars
Against the drugged ones

Is war really worth
The prophesied peace
Or should we drop the weapons
And just live to be
Peace will never be a constant thing, just something felt in the moment of being.
Dhia Awanis May 2019
My dear sister, I’m sorry I wasn’t there
When they call you names and harass your crown on the street
When they tell you what you should or shouldn’t do with your body

My dear sister, I’m sorry I wasn’t there
When they pluck your honey against your will yet they tell them you enjoy it
When they touch your skin yet they left it bleeding and bruised

My dear sister, I’m sorry I wasn’t there
When they want you to cover your scars and pimples because they don’t meet the “beauty” standards
When they forcibly ask you to shave your hair because it doesn’t potray cleanliness and hygiene

My dear sister, I’m sorry I wasn’t there
When your rose is blooming and the moon is come but they show you their cold shoulders
When they make fun of your shape and laugh it off but they refuse to make a clean breast of it as an insult

Thus rise, dear sister
—for your pain is mine to carry
—for your wound is mine to mend
—for your war is mine to fight
Beth Garrett May 2019
You pushed me from my home,
The moment you mentioned sanctity,
That I‘d be dirtying something,
If I touched it,
I’d be ruining it for everyone else,
If I took part,

But what is sanctity anyway?
Am I capable of being god’s child?
Must I strip back layers of my love first?
But can I love god,
If I cannot love myself?
Can I love myself,
If I am not myself?
I can’t help but love.
And I’d quite like to get married,
And maybe to have my first dance to Elvis,
And to throw the bouquet,
And to hear the words:
     “You may now kiss!”
Does that sound unclean to you?

I want to honeymoon, somewhere in Italy,
I want us to cook dinner for one another.
Is that impure?

I want to have and to hold in sickness and in health till death do us part.
Is that ******* *****?
Does it make you sick?

The moment this country said no,
You are not love,
You want,
To ****,
Love.
Even when other people were saying,
We understand you, you are good, you are clean,
You are love.

This stopped being my home,
You tore the ground from under me,
in the name of “sanctity”,
I’d love to stop being angry about it,
I would love to,
But my policy has not changed my policy has not changed my policy has not changed,
My policy will not change,
And that is all you and I will ever have in common.
I live in Northern Ireland where in 2019 gay marriage is still not legal. A prominent lgbt journalist and activist, Lyra McKee, was shot a few weeks ago. Northern Irish politician Arlene Foster in response to this said her party’s policy on gay marriage had not changed. This poem is my response to that statement.
Natasha Bailey May 2019
authority, a position unknown to minority...


Military will only help temporarily,

Until the repetition

Becomes addiction

To violence.

Then like a sheep to its Sheppard,

Follows the police.

Diminishing the quality,

Of equality.

As chaos doesn’t subside.

Authority turns ruthless,

dressed in weapons everywhere they ride.

Contradicting by disrupting ‘world peace’.


Desperately in need of headgear and a mouthpiece,

Praying to reach a pleasant release,

Before hitting solitary, on the edge of madness,

With fear of fatality,

That could have you permanently resting in the cemetery.

How is deprivation of freedom correcting one’s behaviours?

Is gaining the ability to fend for your nation now classed as an act of superiority?
Warren May 2019
I don’t care about your colour
I don’t subscribe to the look of your face
Were all sisters and brothers and fathers and mothers,
Joined in the human race,
Open your curtains and turn on the news,
we’re surrounded by horror and hate
At a time when so much is so lost and abused,
Why are we ******* our fate,
Your gender your race your beliefs,
The choices that make you be you,
Are individually and perfectly great,
Because they’re completely and honestly true,
If we’re ethically and morally at war,
Then how will we ever move on,
We’re ruining what was given before,
Because we’re treating each other so wrong,
When your down or damaged or lost
And the noise of the world just blares,
Your not caring what barriers are crossed,
Your just grateful to know someone cares,
So people -  please look around,
See the person living inside,
Because if we all make just a small effort,
Then never again need we hide.
Jen May 2019
And I ask you
Are we equal?
Can I walk the street without being questioned
Without being watched
Will they see my name and give me the job
I am so qualified for
Can I drive my car without seeing red and blue
And then red
With blue lips I ask
Can I survive in the world you are alive in
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