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Political / Social Poems (810)

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ladygwen123

Man's Worth

[zHis falling tears are like thunder,
\Yet only heard by one
But the world would never know he whimpered
knowing less that he had lost.
Mans worth? His power to weep.
We see hurt on the faces of those we love.
A false smile, a slight facial twitch from pain
concealed, digested by their soul
We scream for answers we do not have,
To questions they never ask.
Mans worth, His power to weep.
Their tears are bred from independence
But we are not gods.
Our worth? Our power to weep
holding the weeping silent they scream ino themselves
And in their blindness, from tears held back ,
They see our helplessness,
Then their worth is found in their power to weep,
For us!
But their final thought? "My tears must never reach the light"
Man's worth? His power to weep for man.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2014
About this poem:
Men don't cry. Some do, not many. Ithought how excruciating to pretend you don't hurt for that is when it hurts most.
"Cry and you cry alone, But laugh and the world laughs with you

























'
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EyeLook4U

Something's Missing

They don't like old fashioned talk
But since they no longer listen
Things haven't gone so well
Something's missing and it seems that no one can tell

It's all about war
And the weather isn't right
Everybody's got to have more
But holding less tonight

Is it some kind of sleep walking
Does anybody know
Are we under a mysterious spell
Something's missing and it seems that no one can tell

A sink hole,a volcanco and the west is going dry
A mud slide, a riot and what are they spraying in the sky
What once was rotten in Denmark is now a worldly trail
Something's missing and it seems that no one can tell
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Posted: Aug 2014
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Marchmadness03

Poverty

Poverty is shackled human spirits burdened with ignorance with no relation to power or mission.
Its mucky existence can be repeated from generation to generation with premission to be re-birthed.
Carefully crafted adjustments in education and real life experiences are a sobering realization to its end.
Poverty is not a black man’s ballot; its dim overcast is a growing shadow over many.
Let’s not handicap ourselves with the gleam notion that poverty is just tied to dollars and cents.
The burning desire to escape its grip is rendered in the soul that seeks it.
Education is the great avenger stretched over time in opposition of conformity.
The intrinsic notion of eradicating poverty would derail our system and eliminate opportunities that stricken us so violently.
We are an embittered society with unlimited resources to institute change and to promote the general welfare of all.
A deeper commitment to education is the ointment to eradicate the aches and pains of poverty and loosen its grip.
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Posted: Aug 2014
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ladygwen123

Na Blascaodai

South South West of Tralee,
The most western part of the land
For thousands of years people lived there
With flocks of sheep on a hillside
And each had a cow of his
own while , in unfertile land
Potatoes were grown.
A place that writers called home.
Never did pen kiss asper so sweet
As when it’s writers wrote of sea and
of gull
And eyes that stared through windows of lace
Absorbing the rhythm of life’s easy pace
Firers blazed
all year round
Coooking the fish and Lobsters they found
Worldly contact was eight miles away
Over a mountain to Dingle Bay
And never a one did ever stay
For the islands called Herchildren back home
to the gull the sea and to play.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2014
About this poem:
in 1953 22 people were evacuated from the Islands caus no shops no electric no pubs. People had lived that way for thousands of years Pop..200.
Many writers lived here more than any other place in the world of the same size.

Life was hard but tthey had much to write about.

only
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darkhorse555

dividing spoils

i always remember
these people
fleeing across
concrete armored posts
all roads in
were fortified
invading soldiers
take to
the streets

sticks in
pointing guns
at women and children
the mind
still bugs me
faces of pain
down trodden
counting back years
plight of generations
sorrowful mysteries

becoming refugees
in their own
war torn country
where they
themselves were born
grew up
then had children

sounds so sad
heartbreaking countries
without voices
a world sat back
nodding their heads
silently said nothing
shame allowing this
in a just world
many years later
has it been forgotten
our soldiers
that died
in a struggle

we all
take a side
in war
ireland still
remains divided
one of her
four seats
dating back
to the pyrmaids
partially taken
strangely why is that
we are one
big teddy bear

a question
i ask myself
over and over again
invading someone's space
surely one tyrant
taking land
by force
is it not
a crime anymore
in anyone's books

i myself
call it stealing
whats not
rightfully theirs
in the first place
does the bible
not quote
thou shalt not steal
christian virtues
as they use it
in courts

justice a joke
a coin
with two heads
makes the
whole system
corrupt into
the very core
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2014
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Unknown

Your Truth

Your truth could never be true
Contaminated with lies,
Envy too,
Your truth tried to hurt me
But you end up hurting you
See, when people finally see you for what you are
Your repute will be gone like a shooting star
Spreading lies like a plague
It will all come back on your name
For no one will want you to darken their door
They will listen to your tales never more
Tales of deceit
Tainted green.....
Itching your tongue like poison ivy
Your truth don't scare me
I will never shrink
Before your malodorous
Gossip
Food you don't give
My clothes you don't buy
Your truth don't give me drink
So I don't give a rat's eye
Your truth is mean,
May sometimes make me scream
But let me let you know.....
It ain't gonna stop my show
For all that I am and all that I have
Came from the Creator above
And when I go to sleep at night
I rest in His love....
Now think about that,
Think long and hard
For me you should be glad
That my Father and I we got it going good
Cuz I know I am covered y His blood.
His is the only truth I'll take
Over your BS,
You big fake.
Talking me bad
Seems to make you glad
But just wanna say....
I am still the best friend you ever had.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2014
About this poem:
Friends and pretenders who gossip about you trying to tear you down gets me mad.... just venting.
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ladygwen123

Amish slaughter

Evil struck the Amish folk
Invading schoolhouse space.
Killing all inside, leaving not a trace
What was said but "let it go let them have their spoils
We must do our planting And multiply our toil."
For those who lost a child
Their grief is far from mild.
The little arms that held them close
Are now far away
And tears are shed in secret
Hoping heir at play.
But evil sits in comfort,
Its evil deeds condoned.
It must no be allowed
to run ramped where it roams
Those we love are sacred
They must treated so
To do them right is extreme might
Weshould not let it go.
The Amish should have made a stand
And taken things in hand
We never asked for this
It Was just allowed in.
what is that we fear,
A no win game
Or do we really want what we might gain.
If its war so let it be
Letting evil reign is not thinking free
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2014
About this poem:
I was just wondering if justifyable reasons sanction War, something we all haate
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mcradloff

Monsters

I'm afraid to leave my apartment
Those monsters are out there
Waiting to hurt me
Hurt my feelings mostly
Steal my money
Steal my peace
I see the drone flying over the hills
It steals my peace of a beautiful scene
God created this land
He made it beautiful
He made it pure
He made it peaceful
These monsters lurk at work
They lurk at my parents home
Sometimes they hide for awhile
Most of the time they don't
The ones with the badges and the lights on top of their cars
They are the worst
They were supposed to keep me safe
Provide me some comfort
Instead they are paid to bully good people
People talk about zombies
Why do we need to fantasize about them?
When we have so so many real monsters out there
Just waiting with evil grins
Waiting for their next victim
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2014
About this poem:
Just going over some of the people who have been monsters in my past and present.
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Marchmadness03

Whispered Freedom

Emancipation was the key to the Promised Land, a sweeter, brighter, a more blissful life stretched out over time. The thoughts of freedom and freedoms came fearful like a powerful wave of sea water; a steadily crashing movement moving more away that too. Years have flown by and decades too, where are we now in this long fought war.
Has our long fight for freedom illuminated our vision or are we so pressed down we lost our zeal and sight? Yes, chief gains has been made in the quest for endowed freedoms with liberty and justice for all too balance this uneven playing field we have come to know as injustice. The balance is not equally shared but it’s longer than the bridge to nowhere because we are trying to get too somewhere. We look forward to the day when freedom is an advanced guarded liberty for all and not just a dream. We bore the whips and wear the scars of time, humbled by the pilgrimage of sacrifices and scorn. Let us not get caught up in the swift swirl of living and join the paradox of I got mine, now you get yours and fall on our own swords. The mirrors are reflecting back as we look steel faced at this unflattering world, largely divided by the haves and the haves not. Where do we place the blame?
Pardon me if I’m shouting too loudly, the sunlight that brought the cloud doesn’t have to bring the rain. Don’t swell your voices with hallelujahs until your blessings come; unless you are outraged as the trampled upon. To hear the expressions of whispered words is just an enchantment of yet to come..........
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2014
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Marchmadness03

Faded Hope

More are forgotten, less are remembered, rejection is organized hate from a bitter dry well with flogged thoughts strapped in darkness with anger so deeply rooted and so cold. All is frozen in time embodied in fear, intimidated by prosperity, lost dreams with no hope or memories to cherish and diminished in the success of never winning.
Shu.….,so I can hear your thoughts spinning in your head recognizing reasons and feelings like blowing sand that can’t be gathered. Must this journey be so long, feeling rejection way down from your bitter dry well? We have died a thousand deaths yet it’s not enough; you have killed a million dreams, ravished aspirations and killed the spirit of hope. My face has faded in time like shadows in the night and no longer remembered. Hands are fisted not in anger to do you no harm, but to be recognized as a sign and symbol of strength and unity as we face your bitter dry well of faded hope.
Chasing dreams that may never be, I dare to lose strength under a veil of defeat.
In what vain do we rejoice, swelled with unquestioning doubt?
Years have passed with the spectra of freedom looming with passion.
The mocking of opportunities beyond common contempt so narrowly bestowed.
To simply make it possible for all people to plow freedoms road of hope cannot be wasted or divided by power.
We each have a vested responsibility to vote ourselves into the process of this sobering reality of our nations divide.
Self criticism echoes through our minds like empty hallways casting shadows of self defeat and threatening further desires.
So drawn in time and dead weighted in cultural differences we still wait for America to wake up, but we must keep watch over our own.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2014
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