inequality

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You and your ideas of luck and things that sad men sing and empty rooms bleed. There really wasn’t any need for you to be kind,
It’s not about the fear Or the worry, Not even the pricks that I feel On top my my skin whenever I think About my demons
Segregation based on race, Racial inequality is a disgrace Everyday the world goes by Blacks are mistreated: that’s no lie
A Big Blue World Full of Dreams Shimmers Before Me. A Wish
Growing up, I believed that being pretty meant being white So I disowned my language and refused to speak Tagalog I told my mom that I hated her cooking, even though my favorite dish is Sinigang
poetry. it used to be what we read in school; harsh lines for more educated, eloquent, and sheltered minds. minds untorn by the society around them.  devoid of thoughts of depression, 
A town divided I understand I see a town divided you know, you against me  South side getting the short ride of a long route that never seems to stop  Our streets hoarded with paper as far as the eye can see 
Man is great 
Man is great 
                The Black (pt. 1) I am not sure what I was expecting Here; We have this- This potential And those who chip away at it With their gold encrusted pick axes
Do you think I don't know that the catcalling won't cease? Don't you think I know there will be those that view me as a piece of meat? I want you to know that that's not why I am a feminist.
The color of my skin has caused a lot of people to hate me The dark brown reflection in my eyes is abhorred. I walk along the paved streets only to be discriminated against
Guns, drugs, sex, and more. These are the things that make you a whore. At least that’s what society has taught me, of course, about things I don’t deal with, things that seem Morse.  
someone once a story toldof a reign, far I may addthere lived, lonely growing olda monarch who very sadwas rapidly going mad.  
WiTh lIbErTy and JuSTicE fOR AlL   is what many refuse to say, how can an old message become less true,  our president wanting to get back to old roots, sadly his trees are losing fruit, Muslim Bans,
One nation under God, With liberty and justice for all. This may be true if you are white, You didn't have to fight for your right To be considered equal.   Fear, oppresion, and injustice cause unrest.
My Country, 'tis of Thee; Sweet Land of Inequality,  for Thee I weep.   Land for which my brothers fight Land where rich men are always right, Sweet Land of Bigotry, Pride of my heart.  
When I was young like a day at dawn,I had a bright view of this nation,Where Equal opportunity was a reality,And you achieve your dreams through tenacity.
Being a girl means taking up as little space as possible.
She smiles, she laughs. She keeps up the happy acts. Cause why speak out if no one will listen. They all still believe America still glistens. But the truth is that act was lost. Soon after the holocaust.
She’s read history books about this moment 
The land I fly for is not the land I should fly for. The land I fly for honors my stripes and stars but not each other. The land I fly for only knows inequality.
Glassed inbetween two mirrors that stare shame inside, Worlds are closing black that shuns any air fading in. Red defines beauty and guilt inside one's rusted garden. Flowers wither away among the windless souls
Let us deceive the 18th century; turn scrap metal into jewels. Set chicks free until man and cockerel become indistinguishable.   Let them run hot headed until mothers’ cries-
I thought progress was going well.I thought it would be a more accepting world.I thought wrong. I realize now, that hatred has prevailed,And the ones who disagreeNeed to make their voices heard. Going on in life, I want to do the most I canTo help
Didn’t you hear? Up is actually down, And firm no’s… actually just mean yes You can do whatever you want,
Lifes of newstruggling to live inthis world of oldliving between the black and whiteto be thrown in the grey tobe torn apart as they see colorsof green,yellow,and blueto see the hatred
What an interesting time to live in Where what’s right is deemed wrong Where freedom of decision is now disregarded and we are subjugated into having a forced position
Sometimes I wonder Why is the sky so blue? It all just fades to grey  When the storm becomes new   And if emotions run deep Would they scar visibly? It must not be, 
Let me share with you a storyInvolving wolves in sheep’s clothingHidden in Google’s dark woods[1]On the lambs they keep enclosing
Tell them I’m kind Tell them that my intentions weren’t blind The fact that one characteristic could change one’s mind My hearts racing but the beat slows I’m losing time
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 color of my skin is just another part of me… so what? My gender does not define me… so what? I am not restrained by my religion… so what? My sexuality does not dictate my individuality… so what?  
Your existence is never trivialYour sins are always forgivableYour crimes are all permissibleNo matter how despicableYou’ll never be held accountable
I am Chicago.  Chicago is only two glocks for one block get shot at bus stops hide out from white cops if he flip-flops he's an OPP   POSITIONS! Now we on a mission
The rich are rich. The poor are poor. Those in between  Aren't there anymore.    The land of the free Isn't free without money, Which, unfortunately, 
Mother says,"Put on more clothes.Such dress is not appropriatefor a girl like you."She pauses her cooking andforces onto methe red dress and white wingsthat cover my face,my eyes,
Sorry America  Sorry that I am black Sorry that I wear hoodie jackets Sorry for eating skittles
I see Native Americans: We stole this from you Black people: We brought you here Mexicans: Get out and stay out
It lurks within the waters, to bring him back, been away, but can't turn around. 
I see the illumination ofdesecrationof the human kind,but when they turn off the mic
When the inkwell dries and my fire turns to steam I put my head down to scraped the hollow inside of my shell- I am empty.
  Why do the good men get the bad luck? Not moving cuz they all stuck Going down stead a up With not a person to love Cuz being kind
Renisha (This poem is dedicated to Renisha McBride, a Detroit teenager who was murdered by a man who is using the defense of “Stand Your Ground”.)
  Sistas Is it too late to acknowledge  that we used to be trapped? In a world where submission was the only life we had? My name is Eve and Adam ISN'T my master
That sounds like it nears the Land ofImposible. It's not that I can't write-most people have impaired eyes that make it
She reeks of perfume- her own special blend of piss and gunshot wounds.
My mind Is an exploding world of trips and triggers A field Of mines and trenches, warring colors And emotions. Motion blurs and lines, and ideas! But YOU tell me my mind is a hole
The chador draped across her
If money is the source of all evil, then we must be living in hell Corporate America is in control and I compare it to jail Since we are all victims to it, somebody show me my cell
A kid walking down the street is suspected of mischief because his hood is up, but instead of a calm questioning there's a hold up. "Where you going why are you out this late?" Must he really answer and state his case?
Have you ever wondered, What did any of them do to us, Why so much hatred and headache And why not put in all in the past where it belongs?   Have you ever thought about,
  If I could change anything in the world I’d flip the map upside down. I’d put the southern hemisphere at the top of the map, And the northern hemisphere at the bottom.  
  In a mad rush of confusion they hide away In a simulation of warmth and safety they hide away The thoughts inside me weep with frustration and hide away because there is no way to sort them out today.  
If you're physically sick, do you have to participate in class?
  Preferences
I think a thought that's full of things,
Kids, teens, youg adults, we are not all the same. Not in our ability to learn nor our in our ability to remember what we've learned. So why,
I am directionally challenged Winding roads lose their landmarks Maps lose their meaning And bam, I’m lost  
Dear Teachers That Suck, You see me sit in silence You see me (try to) ace your class You see me waving to you in the halls You see me suck up You think I'm too nice to be angry
America the great is what they sayWhere my children are shot down every dayWhen all they want to do is playAmerica the great what does this mean?
Brown faces, some white that see us .  your responsibilty does not begin at the door tell her its ok not to be thin and that by exclaiming back whats she's taken in  shes losing her, the within
The homework papper cuts us dry, sitting in your office to hear you cry. guess nobody wore cloths today, i did'nt join in, they called me gay. kids ask me "you got somthin to say?",
The echo of a snicker. My feelings their biggest conquer. Emotional hurt they prefer. Poking at me,  That memory still showcased. Authority refused to see. Now they hide behind cyberspace,
To gain one's respect, you must first show respect. Whether you are a teacher or student, you mustn't select. Age is not a limit but people tend to forget. When you forget respect, you will live in regret.
Teacher, you sit in class
"Stand up," you say "You'll use this someday" But that day never comes for T. Gray   They called her whore, and  you heard all of this Yet you ignored it because ignorance is bliss  
"Stand up," you say "You'll use this someday" But that day never comes for T. Gray   They called her whore, and  you heard all of this Yet you ignored it because ignorance is bliss  
its that time of class when your books are stacked on your desk and they have been there for 5 min. already your eyes have been glued to the clock and your friends start to get ansty.
In a sea of fish, You are the sand. On Christmas day, you are the socks my mom bought for us. In an orchard of peaches,
I once took a test that required I fill in my race. I looked at the options, and confusion struck my face. As i bubbled Hispanic/Latino I felt I was lying to the Test Proctor.
I know I'm not stupid, I just seem to barely pass.  It's not that I don't try, it's because I'm not Her, the one in my class.  She is funny, hilarious in fact.  I just sit in the corner, not knowing how to act.  Her hair flows, skinny jeans show h
I'm not just a number,  I sit here and wonder, Does my teacher even know my full name? I don't care about your personal problems. I'm having high school problems with a teacher who thinks I'm a grade.
This school is a bane Society, if fills with pain Classes, riddled with sighing Intellegence, it is dying We try to live for the moment It disappears so fast You try to be smarter
I sit here in my seat listening to your speal.Courtesy courses through my veins,a passive look plastered on my face.I hate this class I think in my head.I can’t even focus, not a chance.
Times are changing, That’s no question. The world we live in is constantly spiraling,  And we have been told it’s up to us to shape it into something we would want to live in.
When I was in eleventh grade, I had an English teacher who made me want to be a teacher... because she was so useless that I didn’t learn nothing from her.   Well, I guess that’s not exactly
I was born in an ever changing world, but to me seems like a never changing world.  All I had was positive thoughts in my mind,  didn't know that would change in due time.  Lue find, the meaning of life.
From your talk to your walk I can't stand your presence Everyday I enter that doorway and become trapped in this prison.. your chalk is writing what happen to markers and hope?
Education is the thing, That causes our minds to ring. Our brains twirl round and round, all while wearing a great ol' frown. But in the end all is well,  For those who get an education, That is.
Miguel is eight years old walking to school Every day he passes the pot head, crack dealer, and pill popper. He is innocent though and not giving a care in the world.
In class we are asked, To find the sum or the mass, Of topics that I'll never need. What about doing taxes, Or working the faxes, Because this I never see.
No Ma'am I cannot stop talking, I had to tell Sarah about my strict parents and about the cute guy I talk to now. No Ma'am I did not do my homework, I had an essay, a project, and test to study for.
On the first day of class we sign a promise not to plagiarize But really it’s a balance Between copying And knowing what you want to hear Because our own words aren’t in your answer key You can’t cite scars
She
Placed Prominently In permanentPerpetually Painful Positions; What is women?  
God's first mistake wasn't the talking snake, but making man before women. To be completely honest here, we all truly know that women are superior beings in many ways (not in all ways, but just many) when compared to the common man.
So apparently being a “black young man” means that I am up to no good And I should be watched when I roll up into your neighborhood Being a “black young man” means I’m going sell drugs
A word was born today. Can you guess the word? Let me give you a hint. It's mother was from Athens, Greece and the father was Latino.
  Too old to be cared for, too young to be respected John was very obedient, yet still quite neglected   A sad story it is, but not very rare As many others in his class, had similar tales to share  
Black out BY: Nashon Kemp Nate Kemp Natawéj Azgrot (where all the same people stop the panic) cold like ice was his heart as the rounds went off...shots fired shots fired ...he killed him but what the man didn't know was that he had killed himself
My pencil is a Chinese native. Factored so I can pretend to be creative Writing’s  addictive and my mind is active, I’m a practiced imaginative Imagine: the paper I use was alive. 
the boy walking down the street walking on the road the road made for feet then the boy is shot now the boy is dead on the road made for feet down slams a head blood leaving a body
Why
why is life just sometimes just I don't know hope you know what I mean I don't know how to explain it it's just, just, you knowwhat's up with that thing that you normally feel sometimes
Young man shot in the streets Young man bleeding from head to feet The shootings of this young generation Is on a repeat 18 is all the young man whished he could be But he was gunned down 
Dear Son,   Recognize your power, strength, and courage.   You have the drive and the power to achieve great things. And then there is power ascribed to you.
T is for the Trust he had, thinking he was walking safely in Sandford nights. R is for Rage, the rage his parents feel to know their son is dead. A is for Age, the age of innocense he was in, he was only a kid.
They get offended by ethnicity when I tell them of my achievements They tell me because I'm not white, why try, I'll never make it They say I'm doing isn't right, that I'm a second class citizen
This is a Public Service Announcement: It doesn't matter if you die If I am important, and you aren't No one cares if I lie You're only one person you can't stop me
Justice. Where was it? A 17 year old boy got shot, And his killer is free?   Justice. What about his family? Their son was killed, How would you explain to them the verdict?  
It's the year 2013 and I thought the system worked differently,  I was killed over a year ago and my killer is still free. As I walk this dark graveyard, I am filled with rage! 
My love for you was endless, like infinity times infinity;  but that's too much I might just stress. I gave you my heart and my soul and  what I got back was lies and deceptions with other people.
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
  Dear Justice,   Though you have defined yourself as fair and reasonable I conclude that you are suffering from an identity crisis So let me evaluate your profile  
No one told me about the Importance of taking advantage of my education While it was still free. Instead they just continued to talk through me Past me,
Up ahead, amid the dirt lies the fence. Tall and wide, black and tied it stands. It's forbidden, it's inhumane. For it separates people, and people's pain.
Did you know? Did you know that right now, in this very second, there are people crossing? This very second, people running, walking, stumbling, falling… maybe never to get up again, all the water, all the life,
The homeless starve on the streets, And the people never stopping, never sharing a glance, never sharing a thought.
Failing diverse students, how can we let this be? Achievement gap is still present, end it!
Eyes locked in concentration Taking every scent and sound Merging with the ground Silent and deadly as the night Moving with swiftness and grace Anticipation of a wild chase Heart beating the jungle rhythm
To have humility is to think less Of ourselves ‘cause we are God’s creation Red, yellow, black, white, tell that to the press For the races received much damnation. Injustice is still there we need prayers
Rain Oh, temporal rain, why must your cloud our days and future so far from near is it hatred this unending vicissitude of yours I fear First you start, and then you stop plip plop plip plop
All the talent in the world won’t save you if you are ugly! You try to have confidence But the moment you stand, you are beaten! You aren’t loved! You aren’t worthy!
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