stereotypes

Learn more about other poetry terms

I'm WATCHING YOU Like You WATCH ME … !!! It's Really NOT COOL To Watch Me Like A THIEF ... !!!?!!! Now This Story Happened To Me …
I wish I would have made friends with the monster under my bed,instead of building a prejudice with the atrocities people had said.All the years I spent, running to my bed,
thanks to society she learned to hate her body "youre skinny" you must be anorexic  oh youre not okay heres an extra burger you need it honey your hairs not perfect   you must not care what you look like
It put me in my feels You broke open my seals   I wanted to speak my mind But knew I had to somehow be kind
History Changed But Fate Stayed the Same   The world can be cruel sometimes, But bare with me, it’s true
ABCs   I remember when I first learned my ABCs. A stands for apple B stands for bird
Stereotypes could kill the world, every little boy and girl, does appearance really matter if the person is truly quite nice, I implore the world to change ways, to bring us into brighter days,
A mother is pushing a stroller with a week’s worth of food and a child inside , whom she adores , she has a man but she knows he is one she can't depend on, so alone she walks ,Independence is now her middle name, and Pride is her daught
I am not my hair! And yet in this world It can define me, But I love my hair and it's abilities But I don't like that society tells me
they all give me wary eyes cross the road to avoid crossing paths pull their children closer  holding them tighter the drunk men hoot at my covered behind "Allahu Akbar" they say 
Words have never sat on my tongue well Never tasted like sweet juleps in summer heat Or rolled like a Rolls Royce out of my mouth Instead caught in the cracks of the dirty pavement,
I know you tell the truthYour watery eyes search mines in relentless pursuitLegs shake upon that ledge and I forget my pledge to stay calman eruption
Pretty ladies with a handsome man Flock and squawk nonsensically Are silly and full of mindless fantasies The man is powerful He can do anything   Beautiful lady with a crowd of men
Pretty ladies with a handsome man Flock and squawk nonsensically Are silly and full of mindless fantasies The man is powerful He can do anything   Beautiful lady with a crowd of men
Don’t tell me I’m not gay. The “phases” are phrases you like to throw out When you’re angry face goes to the riots to shout. How dare you call me out on a “fault” Like there’s somebody I am going to assault.
A small detail of a person Just a genetic-a factor; not their pesonaity, not their anger, not their smile, but something they can't change.... nor want to.  
I'm just a paper girl Fake & flat No more than a mask   I 'm just a paper girl Trying to make her way in this cruel world In a world of stereotypes & judgments & expectations  
Dear All, I am everything and I am nothing. A creeping shadow in the black, abyss-like corners of life. To gaze upon my cloaked, physical form, That of which was comprised from a stereotype and guesswork,
The girls wore pink, and the boys wore blue The girls did ballet. and the boys played guitar. The girls wore makeup and jewelry and the boys wore jerseys and Nikes. The girls and the boys
Dear Society.... 
I love everything about myself I don’t care if my confidence offends you lack thereof I don’t care if a billion dollar industry is hurt
I wish labels were for clothes and Segregation of colors remained in boxes of crayons That little children used to color their hopes and dreams On a blank canvas of the unknown.
I walk out of my house with a smile, I feel today will be great. During advisory I rush to the library Because of an unfinished essay.   I sit there and type Typing as fast as my fingers will go.
Nerd That’s what people see when they meet me They notice my glasses, my tucked-in shirt, and my messy hair No sense of fashion they whisper Nerd, they snigger mercilessly  
I am a girl                I am pretty                             I am shallow                I am ugly                        I have low self esteem                    I am smart
p { margin-bottom: 0.1in; line-height: 120%; } Fair-skinned, beautiful, and kind She sings, birds listen, and fly to her hand The World fights against her, and she smiles still. This is the Fairy-tale Princess,
Who am I? What comes to mind, when I say hi? How is it that you feel, when you find out it’s me? Are you sad or happy whenever you see me? Do I make or mar your day? Does it feel good when I stay?
We've grown up being told that we can become anything. But the white lies turn into  the darkness that consumes you. Because once your hopes get high enough, they come crashing down and
To be beautiful To be hot To have a skinny waist To have a six pack To have a Kim Kardashian butt To have a baseball players' rear
I'm a girl, such a pearl, Call me 'nice tits", I think I might hurl. I'm blonde so I'm dumb not really, just numb I have all A's, i must be a teacher's pet I study under my parent's threat  Never had a boyfriend, prude as can be I've had girlfrien
PART I:    just.    one.    breath.    For that is all it takes  -In and out-  To escape the chaos and relieve the doubt.     
Hey, girl, Latika, girl Here's a box for you! But don't you worry, Mr. Stein, There's one for you too!   Liu from my math class, This box will do you well. And take this here, Syeeda....
I wipe my feet before I walk the street. Even though 8mile doesn’t have a welcome mat. I’m home.
Who am I? Better yet what am I? What do you see me as?
Beautiful faces,don’t leave beautiful tracesas dying culturesand nude sculptureshave in Rome. We have subcultures of the like:Scene, MOD, Emo, Hipsters,trendsetters that write newsletters
We dye our hair crazy colors. They call us “ghetto”.   They dye their hair crazy colors. They call them “hipsters”.   We twerk. They call us “ratchet”.   They twerk.
You see me on Friday nights  Under all those shiny, bright lights Yelling for the win.  You'd think I'm the prettiest  That everyone loves to be around me 
Take a big whiff and smell the pungent smell of name brand perfume and fumes This nigeritis chokes the esophagus with promises to bring human carcassesShiny belt buckles match the color of these infected smiles hoping this trend lasts a while Mone
  All my life I have gotten used to being called an “Oreo” Not an “Oreo” as in the deliciously cream-filled snack
The Jock. By Jenna Williams Varsity jackets and nike crew socks. All you do is sit with friends and mock. Strutting around, thinking you own the place Do you think you can walk a slower pace? You are practiced at handling balls Ap
I am who I am And I want to have sex You’re telling me no But my body says yes Society built an image Tall, thin and pretty
Black is the new blackThe old blackAlways black to blackand back to blackIt's back to that Blacker the black the sweeter the blackNot the deeper the lack or the cheaper the crackNot the triller the trap but the iller the rapNot the breaking of bac
Roses are red, violets are blue, I wish I had as much privilege™ as you. I wish I could get away with being As generic, As white, As male, And as ignorant and original™
I need my melanin  as crazy as that sounds my melanin screams I am who I am,  I need my melanin its my sense of confidence and power,
Pretty brown skin, girl you know those boys love you They say you have a “fat ass” so you should show them all a little something No need for modesty, just show your body, be sexy
To all those who think they know me… I’m not tough; I cry in my sleep. I’m not shy; I don’t know when to speak. I’m not cool; it’s all an act to fit in. I’m not a hood; I’ve been blinded by sin.
I've walked through these halls countless times before now, yet why can't I feel safe?I've been here a thousand times before, yet why do I still feel like running away?
LISTEN, who told you that God could not be a woman?I am almost 6 feet under my own fearsand I have no holy power to turn tothat is a reflection of me.Who shoved their generationally skewed
my sister is blonde and she is one of the smartest people I know my friend is muslim and she has the kindest soul I'm on the transgender spectrum I am not confused
I am black. My hair is nappy, and my toes are long. I am black. I love fried chicken, and rap music. I am black.
I pray the rosary. It was recommended so a simpy by some man in robes claiming he represents the Holy. But he didn't have an actual answer for me. Instead he insists to have faith, keep praying.
Big ass, big tits, and over sized lips. Long weaves, fake nails, and bright red ass lipstick. Bad attitude, smart remarks, and the things that make me and you sick. That's your typical black girl. But it ain't me.
My words are always misunderstood   Because I'm from the hood   But it doesn't show  
I am NOT angry, loud or insecure  My body is not the only thing I can bring to the table.  I do not depend on the government to support me financially  My father was active in my life
  race riots race wars what the heck is going on   
In a world where we don't see color
Chink, Jap, slanted eyes, Asian-American life,
I'm yellow, you're white,
I'm myself for the world to see, but the world disapproves. I observe others mimicking their actions and trends, but the world laughs at my attempts. I ignore the world,
What they say is (I’m too              s
Glittery makeup, Skimpy uniforms,
I am loud, because I'm black. I am ignorant, because I'm black. I have an attitude, because I'm black...right? You see, you think you know me. You think you know everything about me, because I'm black.
Hidden behind photos and many filters, There's something about me thats a little off-kilter. I try to be me, but I'm caught in a snare, But what makes me me, society doesn't seem to care.
He's not tall, dark and handsome Or a muscular jock Not a hopeless romantic Or a sex-driven shmuck He's not perfect He gets angry He has scars But he's still perfect to me.  
  Leigh Duncalf February 15th, 2015 Power Poetry Slam Scholarship What I Carry   I carry the crushing weight of Responsibility.
You’re the whitest person I know! They laugh and look at me expectantly Their eyes gloss over And they fidget from foot to foot Like they’re warming up for a race Getting ready to run away from the mouth
Your pissing me off because everytime you open your mouth I pray you say something stupid but instead I am met with your artistic views and original ideals and it dissapoints me that you can say something so beautiful.
She's that white girl, you know, the one with the green eyes. Everytime someone sees her there's a look of surprise She's a white girl living in the city She knows how to get down and gritty
Stereotypically
When did hair define my intelligenceI'm blonde but I'm not dumb.
Give in to the nrom, What's the harm in that? A good little robot Trained to think like them. Not for me. I'm breaking out, a runaway, Trying to be who I really am. The road will be harsh,
  There was a girl of shows and books She had no regard to looks She was quiet Unless she had something to say Many found this annoying So quiet she would stay Her friends were fictional
We live in a world where the differences between a single generatio
Don’t all people hide behind curtains?Ones that appear physical, invisible,Some even palpable.
If you’ve ever loved a boy who is both out of your league and culture Whatever he meant by that You would know what it’s like to sit at a dining table in a home
"That girl on ASB." "That girl who was a cheerleader." "That girl who gets good grades." "That girl who has long hair."   All these girls You guess are me. But I am them Only to thee.
Everybody loves a girl that is confident. Everybody loves a girl that is beautiful.
7pm on a Friday night, the breeze blowing through my skirt.
Verse 1: We taint the air with idle words Cause sticks and stones hurt the most What’s a jab to the bird? What’s a duel to a roast? Shoot….    
Highschool A breeding ground for categorization 
I want someone to look me in the eyes and tell me
If you cut me into 16 pieces 1 would be Native American 2  Italian and 2 more British. 5 would be Polish and 6 would  be Russian. If you cut me into 16 pieces, like slices of cake,
Normal It was being nice and standardizing yourself to fit in But there she sat in her worn out old navy boot legged jeans With her eyes on the board and some ink machine in her hand
When I was growing up, I was told to always fight for what I believe in. Whether it's for the greater good or for sin. But when I entered school, I was told to think differently. To just be a good person and not to express myself publicly.
I'm looking around  I see the world is a wreck Nobody wants to work  They want that welfare check Wondering why their kids don't  Have any respect 
Your sterotypes are almost correct, Though not quite precise Here Let me tell you about Fried Chicken, Because it takes more to get it right. You need salt and pepper Seasoning salt…
You speak of those with dark and light skin,
The truth of the matter: I'm a pretty little white girl. I have problems, but so do you. By looking at the divisions We isolate and impede the vision Of a better home, a better heart
Everyone does it  Heads filled with assumptions It's human nature
Because we are the broken and shattered crooked smiles on crooked streets treadmill runners yearning for a place to be Because we desire to be found as "somebody"  
We live in a world where we dont need to get to know someone Cause' we're able to judge.
It all started when I was just a thought in my mothers mind A guessing game for the ages I waited Waited in the corners of my mothers heart In the nutrient enriched darkness of uncertainty Of care
What would you change?What would I change?When not just one thingEven more than just a few come to mindWhat does that say?TrappedIn a world whirlwinding in such disarray
Words Swirling around us Filling our ears
Don't define the undefinable People are not words, people cannot be broken down No dictionary can tell me who to be  No thesaurus can find something similar So neither can you.    Everyone says:
Cars, and toys, and rug burns I am a boy. I am a boy. Basketball, hip-hop, down the block. I am black. I am black.
Look at me, what do you see?
 Let go of your perceptionsthey are all wrong
People ask us why we cheer, But I ask them, can't they hear? When we yell and shout across the field, We do it to see the other team yield.   We chant, we stunt, we smile till our cheeks hurt.
Rah- Rah- Ree! This is Greek to me In Cheer, we dont say this  That thought you can dismiss
I am not a stereotype So leave your uneducated black girl Fried chicken And nigga behind Don’t characterize me by the color of my cashew skin But instead, take a deeper look with in
When I hear you say, “don’t go down that way. The boys dress like girls. Those people are gay.” Well I don’t know what you mean, but I know you mean well.  You’ve got a heart of gold, your intentions are swell.  
Everyone, hands in the air! DID YOU HEAR ME, HANDS IN THE AIR! Don’t let the bubblegum voice fool you This weapon is imaginary
They put you in this box and they say "you'll do fine" and "just survive"
being sorted into groups smart kids, dumb kids, jocks the quiet ones feels like we can't escape the sorting
They look at me.
Say what you want and think whatever, But I promise you that I will never Change who I am or who I'm going to be. I am who I am, take me or leave me. Stereotype this and that. It's a dare.
Down the halls its hard enough “Fag” “Gay” “Queer, that’s never enough Into the locker my face gets stuck A teacher walks by and gives me a shrug   Finally in class In the middle I sit
Now just because I say sh*t, don't think of me as rude. I just got to get it off my chest, some of the sh*t you do I think is crude. Like the way you look at me, as if I don't have the right kind of apptitude
Oh there's a lot of shit I want to say to you I sit in class, with my head held high Tall with pride, I answer correct questions by using my mind So why do you seem to divide Me From the Class
White walls overcrowd with gold chains explicit language and tattoos Pant sdrag against concrete imprinting a woman's son's blood Cool metal lies against thick hands attached to a monsterous body
There they are. they're sitting in that car. I've never seen a Lamborghini before. yet there it is at my school.   There they are. sitting in that house.
I'm tired of these fucking stereotypes dictating how I feel and act I shouldn't like English I should be petite and quiet I should study, study, study Well I fucking done finito, over it
Bellowing. I could hear it all the way from where I sat, halfway down the hall.
Teacher. Oh, Teacher. Across the room you scan with your eyes, Somone to call on it's always a surprise. But there's one thing you don't know, As you look to and fro. That every child has their own story,
I am not a number on your chart. I am a human being. A human with needs, wants, and passions. Don't throw me into a sea of stereotypes or cliches. I am a human being.
Tell me you know what it means to be Black.... Tell me the true definition, not the one created by the masses for the purpose of destruction
Child get up !  Don't let the words get to you ! you're beautiful and strong ! child do something big ! momma told me I'm gonna take the world by storm ! child you're blessed and you're no different !
Her skin tone was dark chocolate, so rich and deep. Most people knew that type of chocolate was healthy, yet didn't bother to speak. Cause you like your girls as light as your off white sheets, why bother on trying to greet?
  it wasn’t my choice  i want everyone to know  i didn’t want to do this but They grabbed me They threatened me They told me my family would suffer i had to protect them
  Terrorism Isn't Me   There is one thing that has been bothering me That I must address It bothers me
Facing Adversity  There is one thing that has been bothering me That I must address It bothers me Just like a pest  
My hijab is my identity. It covers and protects me. My precious skin not to be seen by any eye. What ever happened to women being shy?
Since my elementary days I had show and tell. A day dedicated to showing something you hold dearly and explaining its significance to you.A doll, a book, or maybe even a train that goes choo-chooThe objects were endless,
Many are against what makes me me. Usually a pair of converse with cargo pants. A random hoodie that covers this head That holds these pretty cheap shades. The way I talk, How my voice projects.
All boys want a letterman’s jacket I told my brother today “What’s wrong with you?” I asked him He said he didn’t care. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked again
For a woman Each strand of hair Holds its own weight The longer the strand, The more power the hand So one day, I cut my pony tail And when the pile on the floor grew,
Love Pave the way Crave to say When push comes to shove Float up above   Sin Beauty is within thy name Cover up with shame If you want to win You must sin  
When you think of islam, what do you see? A group of women covered modestly. Dressed in cloth that covers the body. Men all smiling and hugging profoundly. Praying to the One and Only Almighty. Giving charity and helping our friends.
A tangled, blue wisp of air Struggled to become violet. Others swam past Becoming her to follow She faded... Turned plum, turned fire Only to return blue. She called on them to follow,
The media with their statistics goes on for days No man should be older than 25 these days Every black girl should have ‘bout 2, 3 maybe four babies White man responsible for wars & doing every black crazy
I once had a spirit, That would cry, Livid. A soundless screamer, A sleepless dreamer. A cowardly warrior, A body-less barrier. A sharp taste of rum, A native tongue. When the soul spoke,
Hijabs, Prayer rugs, Tasbeehs, Salats, Bows, Pilgrimage I started with my creed but I forgot to say Bismillah first Because in the name of God, the most gracious, most merciful
They tell me i am nothing but that beat down broken up speck of poverty level dirt on that congressman's shoe. They say I couldn't be a musician because my beats don't flow
Sisters Not by blood, but by choice A sister for any occasion A shoulder to cry on A lunch date A dance partner A study buddy Some people don't understand All they see are the stereotypes
quite {doesn't} mean(s) crazy crazy {doesn't} mean(s) distance distance {doesn't} mean(s) make believe make believe {doesn't} mean(s) fake fake {doesn't} mean(s) makeup makeup {doesn't} mean(s) sexy
If I were to respond in the opposite manner, regardless of the topic, regardless of the glamour, how do you think you would respond, when in general you are the one to play along? I don’t think this is fair,
If I am any indication, there is much left to contemplate. And if that breeds contemplation, I have little left to indicate.
For example, Blocks. Stacking rings. Mr. Potato Head. (What about Mrs. Potato Head? See what I mean?) Those Little People that come in a family their own house their own car –
This world is made of color Perhaps black and gray Where one is more right than the other And the other is left for decay
I tack a portrait of you to the classroom wall --You-- Gorgeously lit in the the frame of a window Appear in the grays and blacks and whites of the photograph Peering questioningly at all who view You.
Who’d know the color of my skin presents so much ambiguity in society? A different angle in the light of the city What am I today? For the historic family trees of America remain hallow at my name.
I dare you to belittle my intellect with constant neglect. I dare you to depreciate my ability to succeed. I dare you & the rest of you to treat me as if my future is halted by my past.
Beat ‘em all Through education Raising my satisfaction Claiming the gratification Leaving the misconstruction The misrepresentation Choosing my destination Predetermined by glorification
Because I'm Black Of course, fried chicken Is a part of my essential nutrients Knowing how to "twerk" Is clearly In my blood
I am the homosexual A human much like the other Yet a monster of identity For my humanity is real But my beliefs hiss in the face of society Why! Simple The hammer of justice
like the word wealth my true nature is hidden behind Digital image or lyrical gimmicks The fiddler collects winnings when the starved jack pots though ein by jeden
Subscribe to stereotypes