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Dr Strange Jul 2016
I believe in miracles
Better yet...
I am a miracle
The fact that I stand before you preaching these words
Instead of crying my final tears as the blood gushes from my open gun wounds
Well what does that tell you
That I somehow managed to avoid the wrong places at the right times
Or that I'm a coward who never leaves the comfort of his home
One who doesn't willingly subject himself to the cruel ways of society
As we all watch my kind get squashed as if we were born to live this way
Afraid to walk outside our homes everyday
Because if we do...
If we do...
We become public enemy number one
Check out the rest of my black lives matter poems at

#BlackSaga
Aoife Jul 2016
to oppress
means to abuse;
the oppressed
are the people
you have abused
with words
to degrade them,
and actions
to end their lives
every day it seems
they pay prices
for sins they can't remember
and the people
who receive their money
are the people
they work for.

if it doesn't make sense,
make a change.
I felt the need to write this. I can't stand by and watch injustice after injustice and expect a change. This is only a poem, but I'm hoping it will become a form of movement towards equality and justice for all.
Ma Cherie Jul 2016
Thank you fighting Irish
          For standing by my side
           If even for a moment
        I'm glad we share this Pride

       We came amazing distance
      from oppression at our throats
       They cut us way down deep
       and we wear the fighting coat

       It's tattooed on your skin
          Almost everywhere
           No one ever doubts
    The connection that we share

    So I'm sending Irish blessing
      to help you on your way
     I know that you don't need it
      but I hear the bagpipes say

    Our hands were made for fighting
        Defending Irish wings
          Saint Christopher
        stands firm with you
          Until the final ring

      You are a Boondock Saint
           bringing laughter
          with your mirth
     Defending here with us
   Fighting hell upon this Earth

     Eventually a rest will come
       with our Fighting Irish kin
         when you lay down
           all your burdens
               let go
          of Earthly sins
           a battle
             you will
                win
                 when
                   you are
                   .....finally
                         free
                            again.

Much Love to you my Irish Brothers XO

Cherie Nolan © 2016
For two very special people I met at the hospital who happened to be quite Irish I'm only part but I still feel the same Pride thank you "Irish" and Brian.... who was from Southie Boston.... Irish just a kind guy from Vermont. I would gladly have either of them in my corner any day. I had to have someone else send this but I'm still trying....
Javier Garza Jun 2016
For a lie
The price I pay
Is my bliss
I'll nurture this distortion
Encourage you to spin the web
To accept the false

For my freedom
I'll trade this imprisonment for another
Put my life on the line,
To be free of your sight
To not hear your voice
I'll carry this new burden with pride
Embrace the hardships of a fake freedom

For peace
I'll take these insults in silence
Bite my tongue till blood spills
Swallow my pride so that you won't
I'll turn my back on all I know

For a life
I'll never look back
Holding my chin up high as suppressed tears run freely like my soul
I'll look on ahead
To the sky where my heart will soar
For a smile
I'll give it all up
For a chance to be happy
I'll keep on living
What is your price, the price you'll pay for happiness? Will you hurt so that those you love don't? Or will you let the world fall on them, turn your back to the life that's hurt you, for a chance to be selfish and claim your happiness?
A May 2016
Depression is oppression.
It's a deadly hidden message
Defined by self-hate.
It seals its prisoner's fate.
It holds you captive and throws out the key.
It stabs and jabs just to see you bleed,
Inflicting wounds that scar for life.
Destruction is its mother and death its wife.

You can cry, but it will always ignore your screams.
It terrorizes your soul and haunts your dreams.
It sends you false hope through a bottle or pill.
It destroys your goals and inflicts its will.
You can't run, nor can you hide.
By its rules you will abide
Until it celebrates that you have died.
Open your eyes, or you will be its prey.
It will blur your vision in the most twisted way.
It will seek your destruction and call for your head.
You will lie and wait but never rest in your bed.

Peace will come to those who want peace,
But as long as you feed him, you will see the beast.
You can't run, nor can you hide,
But if you conquer the beast, you will survive.
Prayer and hope can lead the way.
Cling on to every word you pray.
Hope is in truth.
Hate is in lies.
Pray for your soul and open your eyes.
Cocktails of cyanide and monoxide
hysterical symphonies and burning flesh  
heaven rains ash....
Tiffany Norman May 2016
I dreamt that wax
sqeezed out from my ears
like toothpaste.
Dripped onto my feet
casting a mold.
Statuing my legs.
Zipping up my hips.
I dreamt my throat
was a metal pipe
running dry.
Vibrating echoes
cut short and
replaced with a dusty ellipsis.

Passively shrinking
inside a shell
that I'll never be
strong enough to crack.

How did this happen?
How did the thing we're made of
become the thing to **** us?
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