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Social Lost Poems | Social Poems About Lost

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

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Details | Epic | |

Wall Street


Set upon the new world stage within the burning fires of hell. Silently posed factions of the elite, suppress the true inherit of Mother Earth. The meek children bending over for millennium, taken spankings of bare bottoms, pelted slavery. 

Upon entry to rule, the open stage of smoked mirrors began to reflect back upon the podium of lies. Taught by scholars from university books of political science. Fearful of leadership matching mirrored images, of false pretense, babbling rhetoric. The stirring masses of discontented, individualistic, thought of as dead - enders, trouble makers, and rebel rousers, rallied aimlessly.   

With super hero, Captain Do Gooder, bleeding helpless on the floor of Wall Street. Weary lost hope combatants mustered courage, and accepted destiny. To this point, someone shouted against the wind of change. Felt by all who sensed the importance. 
"To death do us part of the purpose to which we, the united, stand for justice". 
The chant began, as Captain Do Gooder was dragged away, and cuffed, once bleeding helpless on the floor of Wall Street. 
Damn the torpedoes. Damn the torpedoes. 
Captain Do Gooder, fallen, bruised ego matching skinned knees, lays helpless. Who will save them now.

Second glances from high rise penthouses. Serving champagne and caviar. Brought iron clenched hands once hidden, to draw the stage curtain down. 

With Captain Do Gooder nowhere to be found. The voice that came from pain of pupil. Born within broken dreams of promised lands. Realized nothing was coming cheap on this occupation. 

The dusty streets found Captain Do Gooder aimlessly stepping against the winds of change, down Wall Street. The well-intentioned, arrested and broken spirited, lost hope of recycling any salvage rights taken from them by Metro. 

Was this the end of the well thought out, pushed down occupation.  
Was this the beginning, of the underground faction. Where was senior generation X hiding. Only Captain Do Gooder and the well-intentioned, world stage occupiers, hold the key to that Pandora's box of hope. 

The peoples across the oceans were already springing far ahead in their own, more brutal campaign. For they had no cushion on which they were raised to kneel against. Tyranny ran over them.  A lesson yet not felt, or learnt, or taught, in the new world.  No chance of city mayors issuing eviction notices. Bullets, tanks and bombs were of the order. Brought down the line, traced back to the ones our United Nations to this day, refuse to acknowledge.
While leaders there home internet shop, and pump out the lies. Everyone dies. 

In the heart of the continent of center, where unto which as mankind sprang forth, for its first and ever conquest.  
The lights kept dim, to obscure the violent cleansing. A facade to disguise once moreover, the brutal tyranny for which the greed of the elite, control the dimmer switch. Diamonds and oil fuel the fire of war and oppression, on this stage of greed and guilt. Too far away, and too many distractions upon center stage for one to see or care. Thought and looked upon by most as racially motivated.  The origins of all mankind, to be left, far too far, behind. The true forsaken people. Why is man unkind.

So..........will Captain Do Gooder raise the bar to which drinks for the house, and all around, will quench the thirst felt by ninety nine percent of the people............mother knows best.   
Yet, still, self-inflicted roadblocks of appointed destiny, drop kicked long days past. Faint light shining far ahead, within the tunnel of hell, brought up to land. Firm above the depths to which it sprang. The truth of world order.  

Wait......what do we our closed eyes deceive our cries........................................

We see Captain Do Gooder catching second wind. 

She breathes deep now and all can hear her war cry, no longer whimpering softly. As in past tense situations, given way to dazed and confused wall street *****es.  
She builds momentum, as our brothers and sisters lay dying and bleeding. On the streets of some not so distant for telling, of what's to be, will never not be coming full steam ahead and plowing through the hidden agenda.  One step beyond the line drawn in the sand of time, we thought would never be crossed. Give way thoughtless future tellers, and takers. Still holding firm with paper cuts, deep into the hands who printed and prepared such slave papers, kept by the elite bankers. 

Captain Do Gooder returns renewed and refreshed. Our true Mother.  
Captain Do Gooder feels strong, as bruised knees and scraped hands heal. 

Brush of destiny sweepstakes,  allots winnings of earth shaking, volcano erupting, tsunami tidal waves, with bonus draws of worldwide chaos. Future draws are to be held with worldwide winners. Grand prize, dead oceans rising.  

The next generation have no fear digest writes the next chapter. 

Hold the press down firmly wall street backbiting backbenchers. Drawn into the crossfire, on her mark, place the x on the next general who dares not fall into civil disobedience.  
Captain Do Gooder has grown teeth, and she is biting down hard against the line to pipe riches, spoiled from her lands. Stolen from the first pilgrimage, fifteen thousand years old, lost empire. 

How dare you steal from, and pollute the minds of her children. Yet old enough to drink and drug and die in war.  How dare all of us. 

Meanwhile back at the ranch.  Captain Do Gooder hugs tight that tree of life, to which sprang all this elbow rubbing and diversion. Wall street huddles in her corner, painted red to match the lengths to which an end will surely bring to it. 
Painted red for all to see. 
The end to friendly letter writing, give peace a chance, make love not war, generation taking a bow, and snow birding it, to false sense of security land. Like the ostrich with its head in the sand. 

Copyright © Scott Howard Myers The Gypsy King

Details | Free verse | |


Who is more righteous,
The pious man who watches in awe,
Or the faithless man saving those in the blaze?

Who is stronger,
The man who lifts a ton with one arm,
Or the mother of four on her own?

Who has lost more,
The man who has lost his money,
Or the man who has lost his love?

Who is weaker,
The man who can't fight back,
Or the man who won't fight for him?

Who Is more savage,
The man who doesn't know right from wrong,
Or the man who doesn't care?

Who is wiser,
The man who has the answers,
Or the man who asks the questions?

Copyright © Michael McOrus

Details | Rhyme | |

blood transfusion

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO

Details | Free verse | |


Always cold in the morning, this kitchen is warmed now
With a roaring fire and my wife working beside me making just desserts
We stand here two hours this afternoon doing one of our projects
Cooking soup and fish for this evening’s xmas party of friends. 

The ghetto, the Projects, contained me with the music of 
The school’s leather belt and cane.  And then 
Parents lost in a fire. 
              That was a tough xmas, alcohol boozy flavored in an
              Empty-bottle kitchen, crowded and smoky.
It was a tough meat just cut today red blooded, now pale in the friends’ 
Xmas gift, the tureen shiny clean. The soup’s              
Alcohol flavored in effort to disguise taste of the firm onion, now soft slop. Next, must
Empty bottle of sauce in …add spice…Oh, now chop more veg: and the 
Kitchen knife peels and reveals their secret inner fleshes,
Crowded and jostling with juicy tomatoes, now reduced to wrinkled skins; and
Smoky, tall, erect celery now chopped into mini-sets of false teeth

Innocence lost in the poisonous smog of Dublin’s
Orphanage hymns and anthems: God and the state will help
Uniformed religious staff and teachers to tell me 
I do not belong - I must reveal no secrets about being
Woken, shaken out of bed, taken (with no word spoken) from the 
               Cold dormitory, scaly hand on my knee:
               Drown in this grasp -  fish out of water
Cold.  A small shivering fish caught in net, taken now from its fridge 
Dormitory for this sacrifice: staring, unfeeling, cold-blooded creature, its
Scaly skin shining on my cutting plate.
Hand on knee, I sit down to gut it, gills first - which made him
Drown as he struggled in the tightened net; and 
In this grasp I cut the fish open - an old  
Fish which was still feeling
Out of water. It seems a silly, scaled creature now, lifeless, staring at nothing.

I lost my loneliness from that hostile world:
She gave me peace and serenity  -
Warm feelings of belonging ; and it’s
Christmas every day. 
                 She is sweet, inviting, colorful, and around her
                 Melt-in-the-mouth music plays.
She is the essence of sugar,
Sweet free-running chocolate,
Inviting me to dissolve all of her creamy meringue shells 
Colorful and delightful, which will swirl
Around her taste  and 
Melt like love on a summer’s day.
In the mouth of my hell, she has uttered  
Music, and forever now,  it
Plays sweetly.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Written for and entered in Debbie Guzzi’s  Contest     GET SERIOUS

Copyright © Sidney Beck

Details | Free verse | |

Reality's Angel

I am Reality’s angel resting on the broad shoulders of discovery the truth feeds darkness and engulfs its target ideas and concepts in turn become meaningless to you there is a creator of all things He is just and patient many still have fallen into the masses of shadow wrapped in their own filthy idols of philosophy I have seen grown men fall like rose petals and weaklings rise into unjust leaders forever the follower of furtive evil dominating only to remain inferior the most important answers lie in the unseen regions where no sense can fully give assurance the mind that so many unreasonably twist and turn grows weary because of the distance it must take and truth be told the distance is not what frustrates it is knowing we are seeking something far that could very possibly not exist, that our minds can twist into theoretical, idealistic nonsense it is knowing all we really think we know is meaningless and yes—even a lie all that has been written thus far rests under my wings under the warmth in which you refuse to feel can you believe in me— though I am completely unseen? how much more difficult would it be to see Him?

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Verse | |

Secretly Obsessed

Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head

Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much

I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I 
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care

I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that 
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos 
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust 
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....

Copyright © humble b

Details | Rhyme | |

There Was A Time We Weren't Ashamed Of God

There was a time in America, when the Bible was taught in the schools. The ten commandments were displayed, as “God’s set of rules.” There was a time in America, where the cross could be displayed. Even in public places, people came together and prayed. There was a time in America, there was no “church and state” separation. As people all across this country asked God to help this nation. There was a time in America, where people knew right from wrong. You could see it in the way they lived, and could here it in their song. There was a time in America where one was proud to be a Christian. One could take stand for holiness, without coming under “suspicion.” There was a time in America, when mom and dad were together… Now, any kind of a commitment to marriage seems lost forever There was a time in America, where many were proud of “tradition.” There seems to be a lack of any kind of “spiritual nutrition.” There was a time in America, where so many could proudly say; “I’m going to read the bible and go to church on Sunday.” This is the time for America, to wake up and try to understand. We need to seek God right now! All over this land! This is the time for America, to listen and begin to hear… The coming of our Lord is drawing ever so near! NOW is the time to seek the Lord, while he may be found! The word of God needs to be read in every city and town! Won’t you too seek God and listen to his voice today? Simply give him your heart and life… This could be YOUR day! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Free verse | |

Lost Humanity

Time comes and goes
People pass by and fly
We have only memories left
But we remember the sad ones
And easily forget the happy ones
We live in regrets
Saying... what if?
We live in fear
Saying... what will?
We have lost our humanity
We live in the past
Forgetting the present
As if there is only the past tense
We live in memories
Forgetting the future
As if there is no future
We love to brag about our ancestors
But what have we done now?
We all are losing ourselves
War... Drugs...
We think we are fighting for a cause
But that cause is only our greed
We think we are building the future
But we are destroying the future
We are losing our humanity 
And there is little left of it...
It is time to stop the war
And move along with peace
Nations send armies to others
Saying:"We've come to civilize you"
According to the dictionary 
Civilize is defined as conqueror
Send not armies! Send food and medical supplies!
Why do you come in the name of peace?!
If you only bring with you destruction!
What is happening to Afghanistan?
Why do you send guns instead of pills!?!
Or is the Vito more important than lives?
I am not from Europe, I am not from America
and I am NOT from the Middle East...
I do not know such things...
I am from Earth, regard of my nation
Nations are only names, we are all one
We are connected; we live on the same planet!
Why does one want to kill his brother?
I do not want to lose my humanity
Knowing that little is left in this world
This world can yet be fixed...
And it starts with two words: Love and equality
And it starts with one road: kill the Vito
Cause if it was a man, I would've killed it for the best
You think Hitler is gone?! Well now there is a stronger one
Look at Jerusalem! Hitler wouldn't dare do such things!
Why do we keep looking at the past?!
Forgetting what now is happening!
If the same ones who were massacred by Hitler
Are the same ones doing worse to Arabs?!
Why do we spend billions on weapons?
Instead of spending them on science?
Or at least save other nations from starvation
Why are we better than the Africans?
We have the same God! Or is it because of their color?
I just wish to ask one question to every human being...


A tribute to all nations and hope all be safe :)

Copyright © Sami Helbaoui

Details | Free verse | |

The Beauty In Futility

my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn 
and made anew

Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live 
And never touch the sky. 

I have to forget you
I have to reject you 
But I will never love anyone 
like I loved you.....

I heard you whisper 
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes 
But you couldn’t feel it

You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I 
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT. 

I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will. 

Be my dirty little secret 
My very worst-kept secret 
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison 
My infernal and endless attraction 
towards complete and utter self-destruction 

I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....

My addiction 
my confusion
my nightmare
my dream never to come true

Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget 
how you were never there

Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?

I have to face the facts 
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you. 

The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to. 

I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely

It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me

You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
with you. 

Copyright © SLS It Is Rife With Ambiguity

Details | Rhyme | |

Instead Of Loving Me As Christ Does

Instead Of Loving Me As Christ Does… Instead of stopping by, and thinking of me… You walked away and thought the worst of me! Instead of taking the time to ask; “Is anything wrong?” You got upset and told me; “I don’t belong!” Instead of spending time with me in prayer… You “brushed me off.” And didn’t even care! Instead of extending God’s mercy and grace… You “smeared my name” all over the place! Instead of being Christ example as you pretend to be… You made up your mind to “have nothing to do with me!” What if Christ treated others the way you do?” Would there being any meaning in HIS words; “I love you?” What if, for just a brief moment in time… Christ chose to be angry, rude and unkind? Are you willing to be Christ’ example? Is his love in you? Can I find a “sample?” What if we all treated others the way Christ does? Knowing that it’s all of us that Christ truly loves! May this be a wake up call and a reminder! We need to love as Christ does! And be kinder! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

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 | Lyric | |

Normal To Me

This isn't just a poem This isn't just another emotion This is me, these are my thoughts The Imagery is my sight, And The Allegories are my Life I'm lonely, There is just me But there's so many people around but no one can hear my loudest screams Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me I'm torn, I'm Cut Part of my heart stabbed, and then taken from me The Search for my innocence, Is like a moa hunt Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me Laughing and Jokes all directed towards me Just to Hurt me Cover all of the Halls "Fag, Emo, Queer" Words I too often know Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me Curling her hair putting on her makeup "You're worthless and nothing to Me" Says the so-called all-loving-one As she screams: "Why am I not Pretty" Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me This is not just a poem not just some words my pen cries with each words But this is Just a Glimpse Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | Rhyme | |

Have You Been Hurt By Religion

Have You Been Hurt By “Religion”?

Are you tired of “religious people”
 knocking at your door?
You wish they’d leave...  “You can’t take it anymore!”

Have you been hurt by “church people” sometime in the past?
Somehow they hurt you...  And the pain continues to last…

Have you been “wounded” by something
 somebody has said?
Perhaps you wonder if “they wish you were dead…”

Perhaps there’s someone that you 
may have “befriended…”
They have done something that
 has hurt you and “offended.”

There’s probably many people that you wish would “go away.”
Because of something they’ve 
done to “darken your day.”

I’ve been there many times…  Believe me I know.
How someone’s actions or words can hurt your soul.

Even those who go to church are 
often not very kind.
And they don’t hesitate to 
give you “a piece of their mind.”

Religion is not the answer.  Look to Jesus 
and the life he gives!
He alone has the power to love
 and completely forgive!

It’s only in his shed blood that you can find atonement.
He can change your life now!  This very moment!

He can heal your broken heart and wounded spirit.
An everlasting joy and love...  He freely gives it!

He can do what no “church” or “religion” could ever do
He can restore your life today.  
And make you BRAND NEW!!!

By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Free verse | |

Drowning in a box of condoms

    I'm a virgin. 
 Yet I'm a peer educator 
  I teach people about sex
    and how to put on the condom.
    sometimes the irony does bother me
 There's an endless supply of condoms 
     in my custody daily yet I have no need for them
     You should see the eager faces of the kids  
    grabbing them out of boxes like their gods best made gift
      I can't share in their glory 
      all I can do is watch 
        I hate  watching
         I'm mostly a doer not a witness
         So in this case I just feel out of place
             out of context
              Lost? Not exactly
              Cause i'm not exactly a saint
                  I probably know more than the one's who are active
                   which makes the irony even more ridiculous. 
                        But I guess it's just that need to be in with the crowd 
                            The need to feel like I belong
                               Less and less virgin's hang around these parts
                                   I'm starting to feel like i'm the only one left
                                             like i'm waiting for nothing. 
                                                         The condom box is calling out to me
                                                          The multiple flavors tempt me to taste. 
                                                                     Yet i'm still me. Therefore i'm lame. 
                                                                     Therefore i'm waiting...
                                                                    For what i'm not even sure anymore.
                                                                    I though it was because I was looking for the right guy 
                                                                     Maybe i'm just inept in this area. 
                                                    LoL that's a laugh. My body knows I'd  be a champ.
                                                                  But it also listens to my head. 
                                                                               Maybe that's what's the problem.
                                                                               Who knows? 
                                                                All I know is that i'm drowning in a box of condoms. 

Copyright © Shahana Jackson

Details | Monorhyme | |

A Woman, With A Bucket

A seed was kept, by a pretty woman, in her pocket
As she goes, up and down the stairs, with a bucket

For nine long months, she has it, inside her pocket
Till she finally lost her strength to carry the bucket

When the seed popped up, from her maiden pocket
She promised herself, not to let it grow, in a bucket

Though, there is still great pain, in her worn pocket 
She continues, even she’s weak, to carry the bucket

To the man of her life, she entrusted him her pocket
Till she went broke, nothing left, but just her bucket

Worst, the conman planted a seed, inside her pocket
He left her, when she has nothing, but only a bucket

Times has passed, the woman has gained her pocket
Because of a strong-willed mind, to carry the bucket

She has a fine young man, the seed, from her pocket
He is matured and never felt ashamed, of her bucket

When the beloved Romeo learned, of her full pocket
He returned with promises, of help, to fill the bucket

Too late, his own seed, he had planted, in her pocket
Will not accept him, for leaving them, with a bucket

No more love for the man, who likes only her pocket 
Nor, for the man, who left them, because of a bucket

Will you pity the man, who has but an empty pocket?
Will you pity a woman, who carries her own bucket?

Will you hate me, if, I wish not to share my pocket?
Will you love me, if, I leave you with only a bucket?

Never rush to a person, who minds only your pocket
Nor, love a person, who has no guts to hold a bucket

For it is not so easy to be a seed, in an empty pocket
Nor easy to witness a mother carries a loaded bucket

She was a pretty woman, who once had a rich pocket 
Thou abandoned she gave her son a life, not a bucket

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Free verse | |

My Children are Mexicans

out in the county and up the highway
anger hangs like lost voodoo over Miami
dances on bumperstickers
floats on airwaves
scars faces with perpetual glares
colors perceptions darkly
alters moods and
drives young men to football coaches
then army recruiters

anger that beats stepchildren
hunts coyotes for pleasure
and hangs corpses on barbed-wire fences
anger that asks
have you seen many Mexicans today?

just my wife and kids so far but it's still early
i hope to see more
he calls me a race traitor
he's to old to hit and i'm to old to hit him
so i suffer a fool
he tells his old wife only a homo would marry a Mexican

middle-aged men in Ford 350's
scatter brown children at bus stops and crosswalks
then pull guns to protect themselves 
from the older brothers of the children they harass
and... hey why did you do that to my little sister?
can get you shot in "self defense"

it gets to me too as anger leads to fear
fear for my Mexican son and daughter
who have records but have committed no crime
but out in the county and up the highway
the police put up roadblocks
issue tickets without cause
and brag, every Mexican in town will have a record

they told my son "what's the big deal everybody gets pulled over
everyone has to pay their share"
even if they
come to a complete stop
obey speed limits
use their blinker
don't tailgate

tell it to the judge, my son and my daughter
the judge who gives out four month sentences
for a third non-offence
or you can pay the
take it off your record fee
we lost your paperwork fee
you live in the wrong neighborhood fee
you drive an old car fee
we don't care if you did it or not fee

then after you pay and pay
re-arrests because the clerk didn't enter the payment
leads to
lost jobs
missed classes
and retracted scholarships
my children are Mexicans


Copyright © Mark McAllister

Details | Rhyme | |

You Don't Have To LIve Like You Did Before

You don’t have to live… 
 Like you did before!
I can give you my love… 
 And so much more!

You don’t have to keep on
 “bringing up the past…”
I will give you a peace and joy
 that will forever last!”

The chains you once had…
 No longer have to hold you down.
I will pick you up and plant you
 on solid ground!

You don’t have to live the way
 that you once lived…
An abundance of forgiveness and mercy
 is what I freely give!

You no longer have to live a life
 that is filled with fear…
I will always be your best friend. 
 I am always here!

You can come to me for a love 
that is worth finding…
My promises are forever.  
You need no reminding!

You can be a new creation. 
 Old things passed away.
I am that I am.  And I can change
 your life TODAY!

I am Jesus.  Your provider. 
 The all-sufficient one.
My arms are wide open for you… 
 Won’t you come???

By Jim Pemberton   

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Rhyme | |

This Load I Carry I Carry Not Alone

This Load I Carry… Along the road of life, I carry a large load… It feels quite heavy… As I travel a “bumpy” road. This load I carry is often difficult to bear… At times, I stumble… And caught “unaware…” The trials and hardships of life… I shall endure… I’ll try to stay on a path that is “safe” and “secure.” There are times, however, when I get in a hurry... As the storms of life often cause a “flurry.” During my travel… As I look up to the darkened skies… I can almost look into my heavenly father’s eyes… As God reaches down his arms so strong… He’s there to lead me when things go wrong. The Lord is there to help with my heavy burden… He’s also my guiding light… I am most certain! The Lord is my shepherd and is with me where I go… He’s brought strength and rest for my weary soul. This load I carry may be full of so many things… But grows lighter because of the love that God brings! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | I do not know? | |

Freedom from the Wall

Clouds unite
they end all fight
darkness prevails
the bride with no veil
to see with no eyes
why do we despise
as the world does turn
our minds they do churn
thinking too much
my mind loses clutch
and the wall does grow
so high i cannot throw
my words at your mind
they fall short then behind
frustration sets in
as the sun goes to fin
the darkness will win
not i as this is my sin
i will glance with no stare
find the pain that is there
and the wind will be fair
as it carries my prayer
one day you will feel
what i meant to steal
as the darkness will peel
my pain from this real
communicate i cant
i try but its faint
i turn on my pain
i turn on my pain
i turn on my pain
i cannot regain
i want to show the day
that the sun will remain
as the clouds unite
they don't end all fight
it is i that must cite
it is i that must fight
for only i can prevail
only minds can grow stale
if not used you will trail
if not used you will fail
if not seen its your grail
if not noticed your in hell
i will try to tell all
i must try to not fall
only you will be seen
in my eyes of ever clean
that the tears will one day fall
down my cheek in all glory
as they will be of not pain
but rejoice as i gain
and rejoice we shall reign
to the water of no shame
as i finally can blame
no one else for my rain
and all the world will see
it was i that was freed
it was i with no creed
that was released to bleed

Copyright © Penn Kname

Details | I do not know? | |

Glory and Gold, or Love and Life

our days are now numbered
as we creep into the years
we are raging into the future
yet we haven't found the wheel to steer
concentrate we must
for this world is cold
prevailing are the ones
that shall stand up so bold
when you die , if your name
is not carved in stone
the only way you shall be remembered
is letters on your headstone
for of the billions of people
in the world of today
only few know
to live one day
as if it is your last
for any day your life
may be taken in a flash
so many people are consumed
with money and power
how truly valuable is that 
in our very last hour?
we base all our codes
on possession of gold
yet life is more precious
as one grows old
will you be remembered 
for your insatiable greed
or will your name be imortal
by your unprecidented good deeds?
money in this day
is more than addictive
consumed by it you may
turn unexplainably vindictive
base your life not on love
but by wealth and power
yet as the question above clearly states
wealth is nothing
in a mans last hour

Copyright © Michael Harris

Details | Narrative | |

Child Prostitutes (2006)

Staring head on in the face
What is happening in each corner of this dreadful place
I don’t want to say rather me that you
I wish there was something I could do
Children for sale just isn’t right
Buts its happening day and night 

Copyright © R Kumari

Details | Lyric | |

Mirror with a Gun

Cast attention on the dreams we have caught
They’re nothing of our own
Filtering our hearts right through the dark
Until we give in to the unknown

Casting lights upon the pointless death
In the wars that we’ve become
It’s so sad to see what will really die
The part we kill because we run

Cast attention on the lies we create
Manifesting every fear
Will these walls protect me from the pain?
Will the static drive the tears?

Casting lights upon the obvious truth
That we can’t remember love
Because every notion that we think is right
Was not handed from above

Cast our questions into timeless stone
It’s time to walk away
Step again into the lonely dark
It’s time to feed the pain

Casting spells that only weave an end
This is what we’ve become
Friendly faces that will kill again
We’re just a mirror with a gun

Copyright © Ian Petch

Details | ABC | |

Mythology And Image

By every image spoken, 
her mind and heart were broken; 
the given and the taken 
sought their grave for things forsaken. 

Belief and dream dissolving 
to a point beyond resolving, 
sinking painful instants after 
in a hiss of serpent laughter. 

Mythology sent packing, 
fading image grey and lacking; 
wasted time drained in seclusion, 
mourned the rag and bone illusion. 

What a fool, somehow believing 
in the words, denied deceiving; 
now alone with smiles resigned, 
her orphaned love, no home to find.

Copyright © Tony Bush

Details | Ballad | |

Leave the Ninety-nine

We must leave the ninety-nine
To go search and find
The one lost sheep
Wand'ring far behind
We must leave the ninety-nine
To go search and find
The one lost sheep-
Left behind  (Chorus)

Just suppose one of you has a hundred sheep
Then loses one of them and begins to weep
Would you not leave the ninety and nine
And go after the one on your heart and mind
And when it's found you would hold it closer
And carry it home upon your shoulders
Then call all your neighbors and gather all your friends
Celebrating your sheep that's back in the fold again

Likewise there's more rejoicing
In Heaven up above
Over one lost soul who will repent
Than for the ninety-nine
Who are already found
To be righteous and so obedient  (So..)


Now suppose one of you has ten silver coins
But then loses one of them from your collection
Would you not light the house and sweep the floors
Searching very carefully for what is yours 
Would you not put away the other precious nine 
And look in every corner until the lost one you'd find
Then call all your neighbors and gather all your friends
Celebrating you have your coin in your hand again



But don't forsake the congregation
And now's the time for visitation
To lead the lost ones to salvation
With God's angels in celebration


Copyright © Leon Stacey

Details | Verse | |


When I feel your warm embrace,
You won't see the tears rolling down my face,
Now you seem so far away,
Dont worry now, I wont ask you to stay.

When you left me,I felt so empty and cold,
You couldn't know how bad that felt,
Your happy now, or so I'm told,
I loved you more than life it self.

You told me you would be there,
All the way to the end,
You said you would always love me, 
But you words were just pretend.

I thought if you really loved me,
you would be right here with me,
But you had other things to do,
You had other places to be.

You were my best friend, you were my heart,
I fell in love at the beginning, right from the start.
Now all alone frightened and scared,
Did you ever love me? Did you ever really care?

Copyright © Cynthia Logan

Details | I do not know? | |

I Lost

A battle of life.
We're both trying to win.
We battled and faught.
Trying to seek revenge.
Revenge is sweet.
What goes around comes around.
Some days I feel you pick me up.
Othere days I feel you slam me down.
The end is coming.
The line we have to cross.
Yes I did it, I won!
But why do it feel like I lost.

Copyright © DeVonta Reese

Details | Romanticism | |

Bittersweet Memories

Walks around the lake are bittersweet memories
that leave tears in my eyes
tears in my eyes
I remember the way your hand felt in mine
how the world seemed fine
the world was mine
I remember staring into your eyes
knowing that you would always be there
My mind is full of these bittersweet memories
leaving tears in my eyes
tears in my eyes
I remember when I could make you smile
when I could make it all worthwhile 
I remember when I was all you needed
when no one else would do
We used to waste nights away
talking about anything and everything
sometimes even nothing at all
I’m choking up with every thought of you
as these bittersweet memories are leaving tears in my eyes
tears in my eyes

Copyright © Daron Long

Details | Free verse | |

Love, I Hate You

Love, I hate you, 
Not ‘cos you’re ugly.

Love, I hate you, 
Not ‘cos you don’t love me.

Love, I hate you,
‘Cos of your great love to me.

Love, I hate you, ‘cos of it; 
A listener, you don’t want to be.
You heeded not what I said, 
Even thou, I beg you, to “back off!”

“Now, Look!
You see… what we’ve done!?”

A soul is in grieve, 
‘Cos of us.

With your love, 
My soul cries, too.

Love, I hate you, 
For intoxicating me, with your potion.

Thou, you know…
I am a married man.

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Lyric | |

Teach Me How To Love

I was born beautiful
But…deformed by men
Lead me the way… 
To humanity

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | I do not know? | |

You've sealed your fate

Never to be trusted
Never to be loved
Never means never 
Enough is enough 

How many times where you warned before?
How many times did they threaten to lock the door?
Stereotypical black locked up in the system 
Lack of common sense and absolutely no wisdom

Caught up in the game and because of your pride 
You fail to see the hurt, pain and shame you see inside 
Your colour sees you as a typical disgrace 
What are you goanna to do?

Your future you can’t even begin to contemplate 
What’s done is done you sealed you fate 

Copyright © Yvonne Eguridu