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What if we were flowers? No more worries or          troubles I don't want to suffer Can't do these         troubles I want to be a flower. Won't have to worry about the 
Lure them in with your evanescent gleam. Bind them into your eternal paradise. Throw their hypnotic nothings to the wind. Craft velvet wings from jewels.  Your primrose shimmer must never dull.
an inaudible sound unspeakable words that are spoken but not heard not yet   voice is presence to have a voice is to command speech demand attention to speak the thoughts
The soft wind whispers slowly in my ear,
I used to believe that everything about life was wonderous
Stand still solider  Knowing that you will never see your little sister grow older Stand still solider 
I am the hidden girl.   Hidden behind my curtain of shame. The girl that people don't notice, The person who follows the crowd, The one who is too shy to be heard, The human afraid of making mistakes.
I know as I write about what's wrong or right. Someone wants to see the end of my life. I tell them go ahead and try! I'm at that point I'm not scare to die for enlightening minds.
It's hard to write a poem,
Through these eyes I have witnessed hardship, Through this mouth I have tasted the tears,
A beat A rhythm A hook A chorus
Voices, so silenced by society. Forever reminded your words are nothing more than that, words.
Braids, beads, medallions and box braids, she styling with weed strained leaves and I'm sniffing her powderness. With a whiff in, I'm left powerless to her weed strained weaves but she’s beautiful with and without them.
Silent, quiet, unable to be seen I scream out and not a sound comes out invisible to the eye, silent to the world Not heard by boy or girl  No one notices the pain behind my silence
 She talks to me,                                           She tells me things she wouldn't tell others.                                            Like how one day she will break free
I live within broken mirrors—   Fragmenting my mind.  
In a world of black and white, be the shades of grey. They bring value to each day.   In a world of broken dreams, be the shining star. You can reminds each boy and girl,
Sun beats down on soft green grass,
I woke up to the rain. It sung stories of the old. Of when fall came, and left. Of when Winter, In his biting cold- In his bitter whiting wonder, Came. And left. The stories of the four
Can you hear me from where you are? Im feeling alone where I am I can't help but wonder if I'll go far I miss your helping hand I was accepted to my dream college did you see that? Are you proud?
Gay rights.
You, yes…you!! What the hell are you waiting for? Don’t you see all the shit that’s going on right now? And you’re just lying there, not doing anything about it! I know what you think about every day and night
You were taught as a kid to be nice not mean  but growing up you were taught to stand up for what you believe, so if a bully calls you out " your ugly, you stink , those eyes are too big" is it wrong to fight but
My abilities are beyond thought, Take me and you’ll see. If you attempt me, You will never escape free. Only try me one time and I’ll think about letting you go. But try me twice
We sit in this classroom to talk about the issues of our day.
No one knows how much words can hurt. Not just your heart,your soul. People don't think before they speak. That's why we have this law. When you call her ugly?  How do you think she feels.
Trying to refine me and define me, But you don't want to test me. I may be as sweet as a rose, But I'm pretty tough on my toes. I know I'm not perfect, But in the end it will be worth it.
Bullies become bullies by being bullied themselves, Some maybe were slammed against shelves, Others bully just to fit in, But what good does that do?, It only hurts more and more kids around the world,
“The instructor said,   Go home and write a page tonight And let that page come out of you--- Then, it will be true.”  
Why I write? I write because it is my passion, my life, and my way of revealing to people my pain and my dignity  that I have inside. Why I write? I write because it makes me feel
  When I was younger I would sit in the back of the classroom without saying a single word My teacher would always call on me
These words were never meant to fall upon death ears These words were meant for battle These words were meant for war NO, we will not stand by and let our voices be silenced
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