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A Big Blue World Full of Dreams Shimmers Before Me. A Wish
McKinley Merchant The World Came Full Circle
Poetry has taught me That I am lucky to be free. I am lucky that I may speak, That I may sleep, That I may breathe.
Let's have a race, Just you and I. You run at your pace, And watch me fly. This race is fair, I start here, And you start back there. Is that clear? This race is clean,
Let’s go back to times of peace. Times when women didn’t have to fear walking alone in the dark just to go home, And children didn’t have to fear their lives while learning how to read and do math,
In an ideal world we wouldn’t have world hunger, whole cities wouldn’t be down under, we wouldn’t have to wonder, "When will this all end?", "Are you really my friend?",
My mind is an ever-evolving ball of guilt and shame Every thought twists and turns, leaps and lunges, crosses and curves Every time I catch one two others take its place I’m only sixteen
Dear Malcolm, In some parts of the world, Light shines brighter than in others, Shade-divided world. Under bright light,
The World of Bi is an interesting place For all is divided into two One is treated like gold The Other is treated a fly- Shoo! One is the standard That all must adhere
We the people We the people divided We the people alienated We the varied We the broken. We who break each other down and hide behind the pieces. We who have bled,
Dear White People... tell me you understand band together in time of umbra ban together and stuff me in bras
I live in fear That one day One day We will die No, not just one All of us. I Live in fear Knowing that
every single human on this earth has a purpose. every person has a complex and complete thought process and emotional reservoir that is utilized on a daily basis. every person has a mother, father, some have sisters and brothers.
Both my parents are immigrants I have no choice. They put everything on the line for me to have the oppurtunities I have. White kids love talking about following their dreams. Even if ain't not money in them.
At 12:49 in the morning, I am asking myself why I write. Why do I write songs? Why do I write essays? Why do I write letters to my loved ones? At 12:52, I am answering; I am allowed. I am able.
Sometimes all it takes is one. Two is a couple and three is a crowd, but one is the difference that you need to separate between a few and many. Many revolutions grew from a few select thoughts ignited by action like gunpowder to flame.
Right now, I can see it every time I open my eyes. Murder. Rape. Suicide. So used to the weight on our shoulders, we think nothing of these heavy boulders. And right now,
The little girl's mother is dragged away and raped. The little boy at the age of four, is taught how to use a grenade. The father is beaten for speaking out, the mother walks miles for a drink.
On female privilege:
America just some island Columbus "found" in 1942 the place where we covet what doesn't belong to us where we try to obliverate what ever is not the same as us
Echo, you privilege soul Stand by as I pillage your home Watch as they rave your condemnation We have yet to live.
Look at me, because I see you.
Word after word
My very favorite comfort in life is closing my door, Not dealing with the judgment that opinions deliver, Living safe in a hollow home of maybes and seems.
They teach us to weave our fingers To create intricate patterns in our hair. To adorn the onlooker’s eyes. Creating superficial monsters, Policed by superficial consumers.
Killer, the killers of innocent lives... Mothers that don't want to be Mothers'. Decisions to kill A life not wanted to be Still a mother nonetheless... Mother of a hopeful baby...
Imagine a world with no sense of privilege, no sense of self betterment, no sense of egocentrism. If everyone were the same, then no one would feel downtrodden. Everyone would feel the obligation to help one another.
There is a difference between a right and a privilege; a right can never be taken away from you, no matter what.
It was at the banquet
Dr. King and Rosa Parks are a part of our history/ But that's not enough, alot of us are still left in mystery We yearn to know, more and more bout how our people have grown/ But in school they think it's cool for only us to know....
There are things that breakI have 4% left on my computerand shaking my head to Book of Jamesby We Are Augustines.It was a privilege to know youTo hold you in my thoughtsmy prayers
What am I without pain? Without discrimination, without hardship? Yet without the talent, the ability For riches, fame, love- Who exactly am I- a person tuck in the middle Feeling like a nonentity
break out Of bounds; set the standards around What others cannot Trouble inbound; bein followed Back to the roots, the home, the starting point disjointed from the hip