Learn more about other poetry terms
WARNING: this one is inspired by stories from victims of WW2 and the Holocaust, so it's a little gory. We know freedom Like the cockroach knows freedom: Raw, trembling freedom.
Oh, what have I done? I knew it was wrong, From the start of it all. But once night fell The darkness swallowed Innocence.
Light up your candles, How hard to comprehend that sentence “Let us take this minutes of silence to Remember”, How deep and hard are these words to swallow Providing good definition to all the situations
“A disastrous war will lead to our freedom.” Or so, you say. “There is no path. It’s the only way.” Fight to the bitter end
Children of the lion. Biding to be free. The motherland of the people. Cries with the trees.
I see red rivers of blood not merely puddles You would think that this is a horror story But this a contiguous continuous struggle America you are a bully
Say, can you seethat the world is dyingWhat so proudly we hailedas Manifest Destiny Was Genocideat least that's where it began.
Nazi Guards Our tale can't tell All prisoners here--alive in Hell I eat the dust She licks the floor Just to survive--Nothing more She's drug away put in a room
Naked skeletons. Hollow eyes. Gnarled joints. All in line for “shower” time. I was just following orders. Branded like cattle. In line like sheep for slaughter. Already dead.
Content notice: Violence against people of color, people with disabilities, trans wimmin, and gender nonconforming people; allusion to suicide, sexual violence, and genocide. End of content notice.
A plethora of people from everywhere have seen it unfortunately, but will they ever feel it, live it, breathe it, or know it? I know I live it and am a nominee, but have not physically endured it - thank God.
there's been another tragedy, tragedy It's happened on the news, it's happened on social media, but people have refused have refused to help, have refused to believe, that things are happening and it's not meant to be,
A lone girl holds her mother’s hand “What are they doing? We have done nothing wrong.” The next things her mother said were sung in a lullaby song--
Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night breathless. My lungs seem to convulse, and each inhalation of air seems not to be enough for each exhalation too quickly follows.
Mike Brown, Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, Eric Garner Who's next? Me?
Red, black, and blue
From the ashes, we rise like Kings. From our fallen blood, we learn to grow limbs. WIth each broken brick we build a home. Our fate is made in our blood and stone. You may take our bodies,
We said never again. NEVER AGAIN! NEVER AGAIN! NEVER AGAIN!
Invisible Children By: Jordyn Milbrath
If one child had not been taken - had not been shot, had not been slain - if one more child had remained standing, think of the heroes she could have named. If one child had told her stories,
I hear their cries in my ever warping dreams
Waking up in a room, With not even a pair of shoes. They stripped me down, Took me from my town, And here I awaited my doom. This dream that haunted me often
Snow falls gently from the hazy sky, Dancing around us like glittering faeries, lively and joyful. The Sun smiles, her arms reaching lovingly towards us, but never reaching.
We wait in thick silenceWhile a genocide sleepsClaim to see all,When they know the leastThe mighty get mighterAnd the weak, they bendWhile we're made to sufferFor the ignorance of old men
Before reality hits you, problems are small, issues fixable, and faults acceptable. Everything easily correctable. Before reality hits you, life seems easy; no regret no fear no pain.
Children swallowing pills Is more than a modern day trendIt's a death sentenceAlways the beginning to an end They cover their dreams and aspirationsWith half-hearted expectations
Ashes, Ashes, they all fall to the ground Where is God? Where is He they all cry out! Memories branded, families not found, "God is not with us!" Many of them shout! A sequence of numbers etched in blue,
How can you do this? What a monster. My dear Miaia, so beautiful, so lively. So perfect. Her dark hair shone. Her eyes sparkled like obsidian. Her skin so soft like satin.
Everyone has it, no one thought it was contagious Hordes of people stand with ignorance to the epidemic Man, woman, child all murdered; it's egregious But are we not all sick? For we must have narcolepsy
Red tears fall from slivers in skin No distinction from where the victims been By the time the president went down in flames The Hutu extremists could not be tamed Women were raped No man escaped
I knew the Holocaust would never be forgotten, Jews lived nightmares and always proceeded with caution, Legs were amputated, Wounds were made, but even in skin and bones, The Jews kept their faith,
Scattered in the street they lay like discarded leaves on a spring night. Bodies stacked high reaching for the heavens above, hoping God can hear their silent cries. They are alone now,
lately my grandmother has been practicing her english with the phrase: no one should have to die with pain and suffering the pencil marks bow through the pages so earnestly
POWER. HIS VOICE CARRIED THROUGH THE CROWD. HATE. DISTINGUISHABLE IN EVERY SOUND. AS HE PREACHED THE LISTENERS BECAME ENCHANTED, HYPNOTIZED. PULLED DOWN INTO THE WHIRLPOOL OF HIS WORDS
1994 By: Cynthia Kangeyo Nineteen ninety four 1-9-9-4 Mil Novecientos noventa y cuatro It doesn’t matter which language I say it
The war was vicious the war was sorrowful my family ran once it began everyone was disgusted selfish scared no one knew where to go hiding was the only option but even that wasn't enough
They lived in darkness Cut off from the world They were ripped away from their homes Locked away and never allowed to leave Little boys and little girls cried As families were torn apart
This is why i write, to figure things out, to question myslef, society and the world around me and ask, what drives us to madness? What is the seed planted, from which the flower blooms?
The cries of the people, the slash of the machete How could we ignore? The millions of bodies that lined the roads, the celebrations of the killers How can we forget?
Imagine yourself wearing a yellow star everyday being labeled a Jew
Africa used to be so pretty So wild, raw, and carefree But one day the white people came Afrikaners and Boers laid their claim To us, they were strange To them, we were untamed
The ash,Rising.Becoming lost and undefined in the same grey color.Looking back the fire should never have been lit.The flame should never have risen.Moreover, the ash…the ash should never have burned.
Steady knocks upon the doors of the town. Lest they know the reign ascending soon there, But the silence grew where once was viewed dear. They were lured away with but a gown.
Hello Mommy, I'm here waiting. You found me yesterday; this is exciting. You don't know me yet, but I know you. I can feel your love so strong and true.
(poems go here) I am not an emotional person. In these last few months I have started to feel things I have been unaware of my entire life. I have never felt so close to death, so far away from redemption.
The assault rifle bursts Punctured the pristine façade of each and every Window, door, and walls or the vehicle of life Piercing the veil of false security that we all live behind
Machetes hacked away at innocent children, who had no say, Interhamwe defiled mothers because they were told to obey, An idea dug its nails into a country slipping away All the while my nation watched: the good ole U.S.A
On my path, I'm headed for hell Today, I snuck in God's house 'cause he don't know me that well But upon entrance a preacher caught me and called me by name He said "I don't know why you're here, but I'm glad that you came,"
millions of screaming ghosts beg for your attention to their names long forgotten, to their lives lived out long ago, in misery and rejection for years, just because of a small difference
I was born out of two genocides. The first of European colonization the destruction of my Aztec bloodline, by my blonde hair green eyed grandfather making me Mexican, being that I was born and raised on our fertile land...
You see the world The red rivers The salted puddles of cry The innocent lost And how it is How leaders turn there eyes How the world ignore Yet one can speak Speak for those who don't and can't
I stand upon an assembly line. My gaze constantly wondering. But I'm not suppose to grow curious. “Eyes front” They bark. Then there is a pain growing in my back my eyes wonder again to my peers.
There are explanations. Explanations that God keeps tucked away in a little box, In the corner of his office. He doesn’t even know what he wants to do with them.
No surgery Lost limbs Give a leg Then ask of him, Restore my sight With nothing to hide
Look at this world What do you see, One great nation we’ve made today? We have claimed achievement But we must see why- Some stories differ from side to side Horrors and wonders have built our world
Thought to be a normal plain Jane day Cali, Columbia in beginning of May, uprooted and thrown like a weed in the garden. Squealing sounds derived from son’s mouths, waiting to be told we’re moving out.
Hiding. Terrified. Afraid. Forever. Their shadows in your dreams, People began to scream, Your blood runs cold.