Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

Social Girl Poems | Social Poems About Girl

These Social Girl poems are examples of Social poems about Girl. These are the best examples of Social Girl poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Sonnet | |

Sonnet to Thoughtful Women

I did not wish to leave your warm embrace --
   I did not wish for our sweet love to end --
And though your chauvinism's a disgrace,
   I cannot help but see you as a friend.
Perhaps someday a sweeter girl you'll find,
   Who'll do just as you wish for her to do --
A girl who doesn't have a thoughtful mind,
   So she can focus all she is on you.
She'll nod her head, and brainlessly agree
   With anything you say, to make you smile --
She'll cook your meals and serve you honeyed tea,
   And never stop her chatter all the while;
So when your brain cells rot from lack of use,
   You've only you to blame, and no excuse.

Copyright © M. Teresa Blaylock

Details | Free verse | |

Golden Girl

Golden oak, the banister gleams,
its clean waxed surface lightly
touched by her soft, soft hand as she
descends the green carpeted stair,
tossing her lustrous, long blonde hair.
She is modishly dressed, in a casual way
(a green twill frock) and she is
eating an intense red, crisp apple,
which she carries aloft in her left hand,
left elbow resting on left hip.
The apple aroma precedes her to the door
and out, into the bright gold light.
She closes the door, engages the lock,
firmly bites into the crisp apple flesh,
flashing her strong white teeth;
her pink tongue licks a dribble
of juice from the left corner
of her red, red mouth. She shakes her head,
gold in the golden light, and she tosses
the half-eaten apple to the lush green lawn,
laughs at a soaring greenjay, passes (unnoticed)
a flight of fluttering golden butterflies,
and blithely continues on her determined way
to her beauty appointment, her club luncheon,
and the rest of her busy, busy day.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Kis

A Kis



 Do eye need a kis. Eye need a girl to kis. Eye have a girl that eye can kis. 
Eye have kis her in the rain. Eye have kis her in mye heart. Eye have kis her in 
mye start of every day for years of love. Eye have only to the kis to go to read more 
into kis to find the place she dwells in this old mortal frame of yearning 
dwelling place. The kis is purple bliss of alarm blazing love waking me from 
death like a Snow White Charmed young man a captive smith to Pocahontas 
fame. A dandelion flower lost in the caverns of the depths Ianthe drowning mee 
in sea ward tufts of left and right bouts of beating on the air to keep from sliding 
to the depths of drowning in her arms of love. A leap at faith a death reprieved 
from Grounded Grave a leaping portent making waves of Gragon wings. An 
attitude of love refrained in every tuft of wind again the sound of love the beating 
of the water on the roof of tin the sound of kis inside the wind and rain. A younger 
man and woman would have hardware in the way the nose and yes the nose gay 
and the corners of the vampyrific fangs. The center of the tongue is one the belly 
button too. The snooker table has a cue it’s called the ball extender bridge it's a 
cheater it’s made to let the basest man to reach her in the wind. There is so 
many problems with people the gas is oughta sight at the pumps this country is 
no longer prominent but a third world country going south. The end of time has 
come and arrived the ruthless and worthless rule in the name of god money and 
time. Take a number wait in line what’s your name please fill this out and wait. 
The number of his namme. Have you got a credit card or payment of any kind iff 
you can give me seven dollars for an office visit eye will help you the doctor is inn. 
The man was lighting a candle in front of the computer and the lieberrian asked 
him what do you think you are doing he said eye cannot see the screen. There is 
not very many rich people in all those cars on the highway whizzing by the most of 
them is middle class or less the plastic hose on the back seat is a siphon they 
use it to get gas. Eye had too many problems at home growing up to ever be a 
father. The age factor plus the drug indicator keeps me from trying to further my 
benefactor with fodder or with mudder. The morality of this hurried fable of 
dividing documents is this a kis. 


Copyright © charles hice

Details | Rhyme | |


The little girl who begs for mercy is away,
her angry alter-ego took her place.
The little girl might possibly come back someday,
But now her eyes gleam red on her fair face.

All the wicked things she said and did,
It was not her but that evil thing.
Maybe the little girl just hid,
Afraid of all the alter-ego may bring.

She is evil, can't you understand?
The sadness, the anger and hatred she gives,
Is it possible to withstand?
But maybe inside that evil thing, the little girl who begs for mercy lives.

Copyright © Sofia Shteyngolts

Details | Bio | |

Quiet Girl

Silence is my native tongue, when I open my mouth
My true and unclear colors come out.
One may see me differently, but I know I’m still the same.
I have many countless layers yet, shysters still don’t see me,
But judge me. My crimson eyes have been polluted
By gossipers and power hungry fiends. 
Sometimes I forget who I am and in doing so, others do too.

People see me in a different light saying things like, 
‘Oh she’s no angel, and quiet people can’t fight.’
What angle are you viewing me from? 
You think you can create or be a better me?

Even in the hallway fiends seem to think
I’m alone among the sea of blue lockers.
Speaking indirectly, their malicious tongues
Spit venom, attempting to ignite forest fires.

Yet I remain un wilted by their itchy voices
That begs to be scratch by my cold hands.
I am reassured by my quiet brothers and sisters
With the touch of their slight nods and ever watching eyes,
That if those shysters become beaten like dead corpses
They will remain an unsolved cold case. 

Our mute sounds bark louder
Than any wondering spirit and our eyes hide 
The fact they we are both cunning and bold. 

I am a chameleon, the wind moves
With my spirit like a leaf
Dancing upon invisible seas.

Don’t take this silence for granted,
It has backbiting edges and some sharp curves.
Since I know all this, why should I say a word?

Copyright © Jaa'Nell Davis

Details | Rhyme | |

Thank you

Thank you – Zamreen Zarook

Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.

Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.

People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.

Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook

Details | Free verse | |

Love, Death, and Rebirth

The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Her father. 

Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.

She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left 
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too. 

She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before 
And growing darker day by day 
But she wouldn't let that stop her. 

Suddenly a year had passed... and then two 
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to

With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries 
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light 
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand

The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives 
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.

She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
It would.

So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself

She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it 
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.

That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late 
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.

She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared,  and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying

Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn

Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!

And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here

So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?

Copyright © Darian Rehder

Details | Light Poetry | |


I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.

Copyright © VICTOR BUN

Details | Verse | |

That Girl

Everyone thinks they know that girl. At 
least they think they do. 
You know that girl that makes everyone 
laugh, and is a class clown. Who used 
to be a star athlete. And had everything 
going for her.
Yeah that girl that everyone thinks they 
She became homeless at the age of 16 
due to a house fire.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
Yet that girl is still laughing away and 
making everyone laugh, but isn't the 
same inside, No, Something inside of 
her changed they way she felt.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
She became mentally ill, she was 
diagnosed with major depression and 
bipolar disorder. She was always under 
medication, so you never knew what 
side of her you where going to get.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
No one knew how much she hated 
hearing sirens go off, or how she 
couldn't stand seeing fire trucks. She 
struggled living her life daily.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
She lost her closes friends cause she 
shut them out and nearly lost them all.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
From what I hear it's been 3 years 
since the fire and that girl is barely 
getting her sight of her future back.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
She is talking to her lost friends again, 
but just isn't the same for her, so she 
has to make new ones. Which means 
she has no one.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
She is happier now and is looking 
forward to graduating and moving on 
from this chapter of her life and letting 
How do I know so much of her?, well 
"that girl" is me.Yeah that girl that 
everyone thought they knew. 
But im fine now. Sure I have my 
downfalls, but I still get up and smile. 

Copyright © Laura La Quay

Details | Prose | |

Generic White Girl

I am not going to deny that i love my Starbucks
and im not going to deny that i think i look awesome in my leggings and ugg boots
and i am sure as hell not going to tell you that i dont have an unhealthy attachment to my iphone
and i am not going to tell you that the first thing i think of when i see a terrble storm isnt 'awww cuddle weather'
i am also going to tell you that i love my starbucks
because i was a rehearsal until 1 am last night
and im going to tell you i think i look asesome in leggings and boots
because i dont have time or energ for real cloths
and i am going to tell you that i have an unhealthy attachment to my iphone
because i have to text my father everyday t o tell him i love hime because i cant tell him in person
and i am going to tell you that the second thing i think of when i see a terrible storm is
man i sure wish i could be with my siblings they are proably freaking out

at first glance
lk all the rest of us whte chicks
 i look like the average white girl
 who had everything in her life handed to her
and i am not going to deny that i had everything handed o me
but whe ni say eberything i mean everthing
i dont just mean the things i want 
because while i wa handed 
and education
a houses infact multiple houses to live 
i was also handed
and razors i used to cut my wrists

When i was born a cacasion femail
society peggd me
white chick
and hen i grew older i foundout i was white chick
and when i grew older i thought i should probably figure out what white chicks was 
so i wrote myself, or copied den societys definition of 
white chick 

white chick:
an girl born in an urban sociaty and given countless things she is ungratefull for and oppertunities she is to stupid to take. girl who is more concerned with her apearence and what people think of her than if she is healthy or malnirshed
girl who calls herself things she so she can get complimentsbecause she relies on other approval of her to think she has self worth

and see, when i didnt fir that definition
i thought something was wrong with me
i thought wow i am relly letting society down 
i thought i was different 
and i was'nt
because h=there was basing my self worth on what sociaty thought of me.

see and then i learned 
that different is okay
in fact better than okay
in fact different is great
in fact better than great
i have learned that different is the best!
because diversity makes things interesting
and individuality is beautifull
and expressing individuality is gorgous
and its amazing to be and love yourself
because self is the first word in
self worth
which i have learned must be based on you and not what society makes you out to be.

so i have decided
i am  a white girl
i am  a white chick
i am a cocasion femial
iand i am my self
and i am ot anything more
and i sure as hell am not going to ever let anything make me anything less

and yes
i love my 
ugg boots
iphone and
stormy weather
and i love my self!

and i feel cool for being different
and i feel great for being myself
and i feel awesome in my leggings and ugg boots
and my own in skin

becasue according to myself 
shich my self worth is based on
i am

Copyright © Emma Kalliway

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The number the brand

When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child,  chai .

I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met 
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .

Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?

It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History 
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .

The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.

It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing ,  cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .

There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love,  and reunited with the ones they lost .

The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time . 
You could not,  but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see . 
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet,  of the Hostility .

I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish,  chosen Religion.

There as I held her frail , old hand  , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago .   In 1945  , once in our distant, yet Frightening  past . 

We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
                                " Etta Babooshka Kofman  "

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Ode | |

Untitled #264 / Christian girl

Oh Christian girl
oh regal queen
so lost and happy

Copyright © Jesse Jones

Details | Verse | |

Children Listen

This is a poem.
It's not abstract.
So if you just sit back and listen,
you'll understand
I'm going to say this poem twice,
so listen with your heart the first time
but listen with your heart again

Say good morning when someone says good morning to you
Speak when spoken to
Look a person in the eye and be confident even if you're not
and be willing to learn what you know not

Don't be so quick to speak out loud
and then cover your mouth in shame 
once you realize what just came out
It's too late - so think before you shout

Be accountable for your actions
Your character is defined by what you do when people aren't looking
because when they are
They see in your behavior all the doings of the heart
So be honest with yourself and do the right's not hard

Use life's resources
I know what it's like to be in dark places
going through trials - unhappy child
But learning and reading and growing is all relative to your future
So escape in a poem or good book
and don't let the enemy defeat you

Stay in touch with positive members of your family ties
Record yourself saying wonderful things about your life
Recite them daily...then write

Be the first to offer respect
Stay calm
give others a chance to talk
Be humble, but never nobody's fool
Don't allow others to mistreat you
Stand up for your rights and have a voice,
but do it with dignity and be tactful.

And girls...
Go ahead..wear your skinny jeans and your bangles
but accept other for their style, their view
see things from their angle

And fellas...
Pull those pants up..tuck those shirts in
and stop trying to be gangsta
If I can see your underwear thats unacceptable behavior 
and it's not okay
It's embarrasing to the struggle and it's a disgrace

It's time to move past the stereotypes of race
I know you got alot to face
but once you learn what your ancestors did to get you to this place,
It will seem like a walk in the park
and you'll be proud to have helped the case

Young people I tell you
if you follow these rules
You can change the world
and become a generation renewed

Copyright © humble b

Details | I do not know? | |


Sure it can live
No it cant feel
Something gives when the cream is real

Copyright © Ace X

Details | I do not know? | |

One Billion Rising

Today we rise.

No more hiding in the shadows,

of culture,

No more silent complicity,

defensive arguments,
sickening pretences,
shabby excuses,

for the actions of men,

brutal and coarse and vulgar and obscene and murderous and abusive.

Today, we rise,

as one.

Today the change starts,

with me,
within me.

Today we rise.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | I do not know? | |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!


Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,

all women.


Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,

all women.


Think of how you treat,


all women.


Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,



all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | Rhyme | |

Come and Go Chicago

Come and Go Chicago – Zamreen Zarook
Where are you going my lady?
Where are you from my sweetie?
What ever you ask my buddy,
You won’t get the paddy.
She became a liar,
Because of your chore,
Two questions that you murmur,
Master, don’t forget that you were the rear.
You became a sinner,
Without knowing what is inner,
Now you know the manner,
So, never to forget the dinner.

Cease to care for those questions,
Nothing you gain from the considerations,
Everyone has their own equations,
So,they do have their explanations.


Copyright © Zamreen Zarook

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Nineteen fable

 Nineteen fable 
Nineteen fable 
MUSICK NONnude Review 
Grand Funk Railroad was a fave group of mine the best time eye ever had was in 
a house on a rug listening to this song of hard rock and rhinocerous thumps. 
Wait. FOGHAT was the best for sex but lucky mee was never a Catholic. The 
Horns blew for Chicago and there was lots of other groups to make this fable 
bleed there was the Creedence Clearwater Revival so cool so wonderful a thing. 
John Fogarty sure must have been a saint. Eye wish he had not got so mad and 
left the other members of his group. But Creedence Song became a new fave 
Daddy had a band 
Played him a little guitar 
Traveled in a van 
Livin' that rock and roll 
Night after night 
People comin' up to the bandstand 
Say you can't go wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

It was late one night 
Cruisin' on down the interstate 
Stopped into a diner 
To get him some chili and fries 
Heard the waitress tell a guy 
Standin' over by the jukebox 
Hey you can't go wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

Well daddy took a shine 
To the lil' girl behind the counter 
She movin' her hips to the swamp beat 
Right on time 
Said could he play her somethin' 
Over there on the jukebox 
She said you can't wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

Daddy had a plan 
He asked that girl to marry 
With a brand new wife 
They're livin' on rock and roll 
Night after night 
She whispers oh so sweetly 
Hey you can't go wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

Copyright © charles hice

Details | Prose Poetry | |

An End to Aloneness

In my life I often feel I am alone; alone in my thoughts, alone in my musings, alone in my day-to-day movements and unsatisfying activities. I move like a ghost through hallways and down sidewalks, unnoticed and, at times, gratefully so. 
I do not wish to be eternally alone. I long for togetherness. But despite this desire for a real connection, I find myself regularly retreating from that temperamental beast that is human interaction. 

“Come on now, sweetheart. Don’t lower your head. Don’t look away. Look up! Smile at someone! No! Don’t go back into your bedroom. Don’t lock the door! Why are you doing this?” my brain will plea. 

I can’t help myself. Aloneness is comfortable. In being alone, I don’t have to worry about anyone but myself. I don’t have to please anyone else. I can think anything I want, wear anything I want, listen to anything I want, and laugh at anything I want. 

And still there remains that nagging desire to be loved and wanted and needed by somebody. I do not know the feeling of being truly desired. I do not know what it is like for someone to crave my company, my smile, my kiss, or my touch. 

                                                                              But I would like to…

I cannot make someone love me or like me or want me in some primal way. It may hurt, but I cannot make that handsome boy want to hold my hand or brush my hair back behind my ear. I can only struggle on. I can only work within myself. I can only try every God damn day to hold my head up, keep my eyes fixed ahead, a give the world the best smile I have. I and I alone can bring myself out of the safety of my bedroom and into the bright world that lies beyond that locked door. 
I often find myself alone with nothing more than my thoughts and the ever-strong glow of a computer screen. But no longer will aloneness be the constant in my life. It is true that never having known the caress of a man’s hand on my thigh doesn't make me any less of a woman, but I fear that if I stay confined within myself much longer I will begin to become less of a human. A flower cannot grow if it retracts its leaves and petals every time it feels the warmth of the sun or the kiss of a gentle spring rain.  
And I want to grow. I want to grow so tall and blossom so big and beautifully that every place on earth is touched by my shadow at some point in the day. And I will grow. I will push myself and share myself with the world, and finally
know the closeness and comfort of love and honest, unabashed companionship.

Copyright © Molly McCarthy

Details | Narrative | |

Ghost of an unborn baby girl

































IF I HAVE OFFENDED.............

Copyright © Red Fiery

Details | ABC | |

Someone Elses Life

I feel like I'm living someone elses life, a life in strife. I've been strong, but when will I belong. I feel so alone, but I'm doing ok on my own. I can't describe the pain, but I keep in mind every storm runs outa rain. I use to think our love was unbeatable, but really its unforgettable. Everyday I walk down memory lane, trying to ignore the pain. He crosses my mind everyday, when will all this go away. There's gotta be something more, my heart is becoming sore. My momma doesn't have to worry, because I'm not sorry. I know he made the mistake, and he's the reason I have this heartache. What we had, was bad. I shouldn't have let it go that far, your just another scar.

Copyright © Kierstein McFarland

Details | I do not know? | |

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims.

When hot lead tears the flesh of a 14 year old girl,

ripping through her skull,
leaving her to bleed out and die,

does Allah not recoil in horror,

to see His child whimper,
to see His daughter cry.

Where is the indignation,

the anger that often boils over and manifests itself as flags and books and videos are burnt in mass orgies of hollow piety,

where are the voices that scream so loud,
that denounce all but their own creed,

where are the men, the impotent men who crave for nothing more than their fascist egos to feed,

where are the voices that so loudly proclaim,
enemies here and enemies there, always quick to condemn,

where are those voices when the enemy walks amongst them.

14 year old Malala Yousafzai was shot in cold blood,

her crime?

Advocating the rights of girls to an education.

Shame on you, men of bigotry and men of cowardice.

Shame on you, silent and mute accomplices in this carnage.

Shame on me,
for my inaction,

Shame on us all,
who proclaim lofty ideals,

yet are conspicuously silent,

when a 14 year old girl is shot in the head,

by fascist fundamentalist bigots who only worship bullets of hot lead.

Not in my name!

Not in my name,
shall the cowardly men rain down abuse,

Not in my name,
shall the bigoted men light the communalistic fuse,

Not in my name,
shall Malala Yousafzai be shot in the head,

left to bleed out,
while countless mothers' tears are shed,

not in my name,
shall religious murderers,
be left to wander free,

not in my name,
for I dare all believers to open their eyes,
to see!

To see,
the innocence of a 14 year old girl,
wanting only an education,

as the men of the cloth,
prance around with their pathetic self-righteous indignation.

I write this today,
the anger raging in my veins,

yet I fear,

that I shall write more of this,

unless we stand up and say 'no more',

I fear that I shall be writing this again,

until we all,

reclaim the true principles of humaneness,

until we silence the voices of bigotry,
of rage,
of fanatical insanity,

I fear I shall be writing this again,


until the muck-ridden bile,
is not excised,

I shall continue to say,


Or else I shall have nothing,

but my unending shame.

(for Malala Yousafzai, 14 years old, in a critical condition after being shot in the head by the Pakistani Taliban, for her work as a young activist advocating the rights of girls to attend school)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | I do not know? | |

For Anene Booysen 1996 - 2013

Hamba Kahle Anene Booysen! (1996 – 2013)

Dead at 17, brutally raped and left to die,
in the dirt,


at a construction site in Bredasdorp.


‘horrific’, ‘repulsed’,
‘brutally raped’, ‘shocked’,


do these words mean anything,
to anyone,



Not to Anene Booysen,


murdered at 17, brutally raped and left to die,

in the dirt,


at a construction site in Bredasdorp.


Anene was raped,
savagely mutilated,


Her 17 year old body tossed aside,


by the hands of men.


Men, always men,


cowardly, beastly, perverted, twisted men.


‘Beastly’, ‘perverted’, ‘twisted’,


do these words mean anything,
to anyone,



Not to Anene Booysen,


who now lies cold and dead.


How many Anene Booysens will it take,


for us,






men, especially men,


to excise the ghastly menace,


of the heinous capacity that resides,


within men,


always men,


to brutalise, rape, mutilate, and murder.


‘Brutalise’, ‘murder’, ‘rape’,


do these words mean anything,
to anyone,



Not to Anene Booysen,


murdered at 17, brutally raped and left,


to die,


in the dirt,


at a construction site,


in Bredasdorp.



Anene Booysen
(1996 – 2013)


* – Hamba Kahle – “Farewell, Travel Well” in Zulu


** – Bredasdorp is a small town near Cape Town, South Africa

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | Rhyme | |

Never Be Afraid to Speak up

Big brown eyes and long brown hair
Shes so beautiful it isn't fair.
With every step she seems to glow
she's so pretty but she doesn't know...

High school jock with long strong legs
hes wasting his years drinking down kegs.
The beautiful girl stands near by
but she can't approach him she's far to shy...

Watching this girl for many years
scrawny boy with large round ears.
Big huge glasses that cover his eyes
want's to talk to the girl but hes far to wise...

Scrawny boy with the large round ears decides
hes going to overcome one of his fears
he walks up to the girl and asks her her name
just as the jock scores a goal that wins the game...

He tries again but she sends him away
she says she doesn't want to see him any day.
He walks away with his heart broken
shut down just after the moment he had spoken....

Beautiful boy with the golden skin
every girl want's to be with him.
After watching the jock break the beautiful girl's heart
all he could do was watch her fall apart....

Beautiful girl looks his way 
This was what he'd wished for every day
but now many years later, looking back
he remembers himself the scrawny boy
and how she made his heart crack....

This is a message to give everyone a chance
don't judge people with a once over glance.
Treat everyone right because its the best thing to do
You'll live your life happy the whole way through.

Copyright © Ella Marley

Details | Verse | |

A Toy Girl

A smooth and soft,
A cheerful and lovely,
Like a red rose,
Her smile was knocking,
My conscientious 
That was toxicating,
And mind likes to talk,
As she was a toy girl.

Praising for her new dress,
Her jewellery and appearances,
Her walking steps,
Started to palpitate, 
A fly with my dreams,
As a butterfly,
Enjoying fragrance,
In a warmth glimmering world.

Copyright © Daljit Khankhana

Details | Lyric | |

Little Shopper Girl (for Deborah's Contest)

Note: To the tune of "Little Drummer Boy"

Come, they sold me, to Macy’s this year
The perfect gifts await for holiday cheer

I’ll push and shove my way through the crowd
Cuss if I don’t succeed, for crying out loud

Stomp on feet of shoppers with my heels
Clear a path to line's front as everyone reels

Bent o’er in pain they grouse, “Who is this cruel witch?”
And I scream back to them in a very high pitch

To reach fine gifts I create travesty
Then single-handedly grab the last Nativity

Baby Jesus is smiling at me
What have I done to find Thee
Done to find Thee

Sadly, I glimpse back at those I’ve attacked
And hand the manger scene to one farther back

The truest gift we find is not on the shelves
We’ll never find this gift within our lost selves

If we forget to share the holiday joys
With shopping schemes and ill-conceived ploys

Make way for kinder shoppers courteously
To find the greatest gift called humanity

Just leave the shops behind and visit your church
And bow before His grace from the pew as you perch

Baby Jesus is smiling at me
For now I’ve found Thee
Now I’ve found Thee

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Rhyme | |

Our QT Savior

In the cold of the morn with a crisp cloudy day…
A flat tire assailed a young girl, as she went on her way.
Young and full of life but definitely overwhelmed…
She was late for work and her husband had just nearly died.
She sat in her car, sniffling, worrying, and crying some wails.
She’d never changed a tire, a young husband always there.
But hurt he’d become, and in the hospital now remained…
It was up to her, suddenly alone, to make things right again.
She fretfully tried AAA but the wrong number was wrung…
Till Old Granny Goodness appeared with hope, and some fun.
She quickly got her out of the car, and found everything there.
Explaining what to do, Granny decided to entertain with flair.
Together they’d use a spare tire to fix that rickety old car.
They figured out the jack and successfully lifted the car.
But lug nuts are hard and need strength to unleash…
So granny fussed and she bug-tussled but never gave up
Till the young girl laughing, knew what she must do herself… 
Grabbing deep into her courage, she ran into the QT for help.
Sure enough, a worker volunteered to help that sweet young thing out.
And the lug nuts came off lickety-split with laughter on top.
The young man was gracious, and ever so kind and…
Yes, he finished the job with his best smile and in record time
And of course he helped put everything away, too, you can bet…
He even helped Old Granny Goodness up off the ground where she sat.
Then with a salute and fare thee well, he went back inside…
While Old Granny Goodness, and the girl put air in the tires.
By now the girl was the lead in the work as she smiled and laughed…
She was empowered; you know… there’s nothing wrong with that.
Yes, the world was saved as all found their way home, with a wink, at last.
Yes, with gratitude, a hug, and a smile… many a way can be found again.

Contest:Write me a Happy Poem 10-31-2011 CSEastman

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Rhyme | |

Be Her

You see her?
Why don't go be like her?
No one likes you,
so this is what you must do.

You must stop being yourself,
get off of you shelf.
You must please everyone,
to do that, you must be number one.

She's the perfect girl,
you're the no one in the world.
So go ahead, and give yourself away,
since you're going the wrong way.

You are no longer you,
see what you can do.
You are now her,
that's better than what you ever were.

Copyright © Ana Jusino

Details | Free verse | |

Missing Girl

  Champagne popping and club hoping
  You and your girlfriends had a
  Wild night out
  I cannot see you in the images
  You claim you took because you
  Blacked out

Copyright © Maina Ndugo

Details | I do not know? | |

pin up girl

i am a woman
tell me what is that
sometimes i feel
i'm too thin
too tall
too plain
and too fat
i am a woman
where's the holy grail
will you still love me
the next day
and the next
when i'm old 
when i'm frail?
i am a woman
where's my sister in this game
and when i feel like
a complete
obsolete low down shame
i am a woman
not your object to claim
you don't tell me
i'm too thin
too fat
not good enough or anything like that
for every blemish and hair on my face
every curve on my body
is a part of me 
makes me real
makes me chase
away those of you
bound and determined
to beat me
defeat me
with precision
with haste
I am a woman
let's just leave it at that
i am what i am
too thin
too tall
too plain
and too fat

Copyright © jennifer hanebuth