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Best Rights Poems

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New Rights Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Rights poems are below this new poems list.

Value of human rights 1 by Golshani niya, Dr Mohammad
RIGHTS OF JOB by Baniti, Nailah
GOOD GOD AND ALLAH PUTTING THE WORLD TO RIGHTS by Ashton, Darryl
Women's Rights by Monihan, Rhoda
Dead To Rights by Horn, James
Earth Birthing Rights by Dillenbeck, Gerald
BRTHDAY OF A RIGHTS KING by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
WHAT RIGHTS DO AND MEANS by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
Human Rights Day by Johannes, Birgit
CIVIL RIGHTS COLLEGE by BLAKE, ANTHONY

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The Best Rights Poems

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Like A Girl

Listen to poem:
Like A Girl 

I play like a girl, I hit like a girl
You say I throw like a girl, 
And, when I run -- I run like a girl!
All that plus more, enjoy this one size fits all

Who and what I want comes from being strong 
Classy and fabulous, 
THIS is my song!

I've been told, cut to size
The world dark and gray, when life becomes an insult
Take heed when I speak my mind, 
I am tough, outstanding and beautiful!

Move ahead --- say it twice, I smell nice
A taste of Cool Water and Justice Perfume
I have a non-stop multitask fixation
Like a woman, everything about me is hidden 
Magic and alluring the only joy in sexuality you'll need

I'm empowering this moment!
Endorsing Myself, with a certain sorta mystique
I deliver an independent will, 
     don't ever underestimate my physique

I am a caregiver, a female who won't give up the fight
I remain firm and believe all women have equal rights
I walk and talk Like A girl 
    wearing heels Breaking the sound of Annabel

       Like, Mona's unforgettable smile, 
       I stand tall Like Miss Liberty
       I am, Betsy Ross, America's #1 designer
            Harriet, who escaped slaver-y 
       Like Theresa and Mary, I'm here to give change
       I am, Hilary overwhelmed with determination
       A leader -- A Goddess, I burn like Joan
       ---Cleopatra in the room
       ---Calamity Jane's wild side
       Emelia's, won't give up heart
       I am Anne, with a secret hidden spot
       Susan B, with the right to vote
       Emily who writes deep and pretty

The sound In your eyes aren't listening!
You imagine I am weak -- not strong enough -- brave enough, 
You call me different and difficult!
Still, you want my warmth -- my love -- my attention

I am not less, I am more
I am a woman -- I frown -- I cry -- I hurt and yell at the universe
Nevertheless, I make a difference
Like a girl, I smile
A smile never seen or felt before, both defined and undefined
Your heart will ask and implore for more

Like a girl, I'll drive you wild, looking pretty "You're In Love!"
My Self confidence comes from who I am deep inside
Everything I've become follows the makeup on my face
Bare and nude, I am the Madonna flowering the mood

At the end of every day, I have one other thing to say
The Next Time You ask me to cook and clean
Because you think, I belong in the kitchen
You better believe I'm doing it my way
LIKE A GIRL


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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A PORNO-GRAPHICAL SLAMMING REBUTTAL

Seems like I could be on top of the world.
I think about poetry like my tongue is pearled.
Just the other day I wrote a poem to honor another poet.
I spun around in a spin to unfurl to the Soupers whorled.
I know they think they’re the bombshell.
They are big headed and believe their words cast the spell.
They vortex puts us in a whirlpool.
They billow swells.
Soupers let’s keep it real.
The universe zeal.
We entertain each other with our thoughts.
Poetry is our appeal.
We write to regale.
Anything else considered is to no avail.
I laugh aloud.
Soupers the advantage is a tall tale.
I am here to share-out.
That there is such a thing as an amateur in the house.
I know many fill the title of a poet professional.
This is where real skills are grandeur and profound.
Soupers, the truth expose.
A writer’s right shows.
Angstrom to a wavelength, the brain thinks and the mind depicts.
As a Poetess, here I throw it to the wind; that it is you with the asshole.

To the Souper who asked for a rebuttal to his slam.
__________________________________________________________________|
Penned February 18, 2015!


Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015

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Common Man


The traveler reeked of weariness,
His companion was Fatigue
Wear upon his clothes suggest
He'd come a million league.

Gaunt were eyes deep set and brown
Above his cheekbones high
His being was pure somnolence
And I heard his silent cry.

Hard roads had been his travel
The pains chiseled on his face
In lines of furrows on his brow
Permanently enlaced

Around I saw no motion there, then ...
His head began to rise
Finally he looked at me ...
Suffering in his eyes.

So quietly I attended
And with a heavy heart
I wanted so to speak to him ...
But knew not how to start

Within his labored breathing
He then began to speak
His words, when finally spoken
Were truthful and unique

His lips worked to form the words -
Then said; "My name is: Common Man,
I'm a father; I've worked hard;
' always done the best I can.

"The road's become uphill and steep with
Burdens I can't propel
I've tried to move on forward -
But, I stumbled here - and fell.

"There are others on me
Who so do depend
I must move on forward,
This mustn't be my end.

"Now I must reach out to you
'Cause before I've never failed
I'm turning now to you
'Fore on hardships I'm impaled". 

A calloused hand then extended
Toward my outstretched hand
And I want to heed the call
For this Common Man.

But, Greed and Avarice have won
And assistance can't be lent -
Wall Street, you see, owns me now:
I'm Your Government.


Copyright © Jack Clark | Year Posted 2014

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My Cloud - John G Lawless

MY CLOUD by JOHN G. LAWLESS


I don’t remember asking…..			
yet I am still hearing a babbling brook
of mindless chatter rolling pebbles
through my ears and across my mind.
Noisome, acridly scented, sounds,
a Charlie Brown like… wah–wah-wah
droning in the background of my life.
“You can’t say that!”  “It might offend
somebody – somewhere – someday.”
“How can you even think that way??!!!”
“Don’t you care how other people feel?”
“Do you have any feelings at all for them?”
“You can’t do THAT!”  “WHAT WILL
PEOPLE THINK!” “ Didn’t you see that sign?”
“Why can’t you just follow instructions, do
what you’re told, believe that we are right,
that WE know what is best for you?”
“If you ate less there would be more food
to feed the hungry.”(Yeah but then I’d be hungry.)
“If you drove less there would be more fuel
for others to burn and fewer emissions.”
(How the hell does that work???)
“If you would only follow all the shoulds
and musts then you’d know the reasons
why you should entrust the future of the
planet, the diet of your kids, to those of
us entitled to pry off freedom’s lids.”
“Every voice is equal when every voice
is heard.” (That could be said of cows
and sheep  and noise within the herd.)
“What is it that you want?”, they ask
in obvious disdain and shudder when
I mention my First Amendment claim.
I wish that those who speak their minds
would allow me to do the same without
their constant reprimand “that I should
be ashamed”.  When I speak, and write, and
act in a manner that I choose, I shouldn’t
be belittled by the puppets of the fools.
I do not need the politics of food, sex,
and lies, nor special interest groups that
see only through “their” eyes.  I cannot
be an island, so I choose to be a cloud -
sit above the melee of “their” ever
spreading shroud.  Therefore, the
conversations may be ended by
a verse, a substantial update
from the “islands” brutal curse
as I, in karaoke style, sing a
sixties refrain aloud:

HEY!  HEY! YOU!  YOU!
GET OFFA MY CLOUD!!**

**The Rolling Stones – Get off of My Cloud(1965)


John G. Lawless
5/30/2015




Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2015

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CONQUERING THE BLIND SCALES OF PATRIARCHY

CONQUERING THE BLIND SCALES OF PATRIARCHY Crystal cold are the pupils of some men staring red to jailed porcelain dolls skin dowered for the title of chastity, your curves, your swell, they treated like machines. You can be the light midst darkness, woman yet why they see your body as gold mines, your face displays no favor from their sight. Fruits of labor you bring harvest nothing your virginal flesh dead ere blossoming suspended by sharp claws of ignorance? Aged with grief but rising from conquered fears, woman today shake white-walled home of kings to trumpet-loud the darkness in her feet... Wounded is her heart but still she will stand, her message free flying high without wings She will fight even with the threats of death balancing blind scales of patriarchy, Fears foregone, her bravery stifling pain, peace and justice, equality to all the rights for women her ever after toil! ______________________________________________________ Patriarchy - Poetry Contest Sponsor Name - Thomas Martin ~~Placed 1st~~~ Olive Eloisa Guillermo 10:41 pm, July 16, 2015


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2015

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Seeking Equality - My Spirit

Lonely days and nights of childhood spent in tears, no comfort wishing for a gentle caress, a peck aching for the tender words weary of the ignorance my heart cries for the child in me Unjust is the love that singles out a child, the rest yearn, birthed by the same as if a duty thats done and then discarded to climb, no support to be lent they wander till the end my heart cries for them where is the glory that the world sings of motherly love and care where is the justice that prevails the right of every child they sing of equality, when at home the child feels unfair oh ruthless world I beseech prithee give a care. © (12 May '15) * Honorable mention in the contestShow me your spirit' by FJ Thomas on 19 May 2015.


Copyright © poesy relish | Year Posted 2015

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I am a Child- Poem written for Restore a Child Organization

I am a child
Like the one you tuck in bed
The one you kiss on the head
The one who gets loved instead
The one who is so well fed
I am a child

I am a child
Like the one who gives you joy
Your pretty girl and fine boy
The one who gets every toy
The one who none dares annoy
I am a child

I am a child
With no home to call my own
The cold reaching to my bone
Hunger pangs, all that I’ve known
In tattered clothes, I have grown
I am a child

I am a child
The pavement my only bed
Dreaming of a piece of bread
With a small heart full of dread
My life hanging from a thread
I am a child

I am a child
With no gifts beneath the tree
With no hope to be set free
Wanting like YOUR child to be
Why, oh, why, can’t you love ME?

I am a child
I am YOUR child
I am GOD’s child
Remember me this Christmas….

Eileen Manassian Ghali

I'm privileged that Norma Nashid, founder of Restore a Child, has asked me to be an ambassador for the organization to help raise awareness of the plight of less fortunate children around the world. She asked me to write a poem for their newsletter, and I am sharing her FB post regarding it here with you.

(The poem below was written by Eileen Manassian Ghali, a professor of English at Middle East University in Beirut, Lebanon. She dedicated her poem this Christmas to Restore a Child. Her mother, Angel Dikran Manassian was my favorite teacher and my first teacher in school. Now I get the honor of enjoying the beautiful writing of her daughter, Eileen.--Norma Nashed)


If you are interested in finding out more about this humanitarian organization, please look them up on FB. I will be writing an article soon to highlight the plight of Syrian Refugee children in Lebanon. I hope my Mama would be proud of me!

restoreachild.org
http://ymlp.com/zMiueR (latest newsletter)
https://www.facebook.com/RestoreAChild

My poem will be published in the next edition


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

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Devils favorite things

How can people want rights but they aren't right
While working in the daylight with souls bright as night
The creator shall judge the judges, The evil deserves evil
Good people will get what is equal to their actions
And immoral skin passions have fatal lessons 
God has a scale where He weighs & sits 
Because everything has equal opposite
We selfish to others but hold our nose when they sell theirs
And not giving pardons while expecting God’s cares
And blessings while leaving others with our bee stings
Now turn to your devil’s favorite things
Praying to join the heavenly choir 
But with an evil song you desire 
So retire before you join the hell fire.

To be right there's no wrong, the righteous are morally strong
You need more than calcium to be the backbone of society
While society breaks you, to makes you. Surprisingly,
The -able are ignorant and unstable 
Unable to add-up in the moral table
Telling fables of multiplication while being divided
Trying to add reasoning in facts provided
Their individualism is subtracting from the fold
Being percentages of a percentage, losing the stronghold
False foundation told about a “Doomed Youth”
While the witty wise horde the fake truth
As the truly righteous shake their head and sings
Go ahead with the devil’s favorite things
Praying to join the heavenly choir 
But with an evil song you desire 
So retire before you join the hell fire.

The battle of truth lies in the beheading of lies
The Righteous must write us 
For justice to be just to us and right us
Bleeding thoughts to think, words to ink
Carving insight to push sanity to the brink
Punching Intel, in mind, for knowledge to sink
Unfold stories consoled foretell tails told
Today's prophets profit profits with souls they forfeit
Crumbling towers with warped foundations
Ripping families but cursed lives they’re facin’
Losing the troubleshooting; uprooting with a booting
Bearing false fruits flawed brings
Now play with your devil’s favorite things 
Praying to join the heavenly choir 
But with an evil song you desire 
So retire before you join the hell fire.


Copyright © siza sibiya | Year Posted 2013

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Not Too Late for Tears- Girl Rising

She held her mother’s hand
As tears made their way
Down the face called
“Exquisite, beautiful, charming”…
The face that had been her comfort

She could not absorb the pain in her words
“Nothing…I feel...nothing
If I could only feel a little of what my friends describe
That feeling of”…she sighed
“Of….of giddiness…
They say it’s like…like…
The beating of a drum..faint at first and then
Beating louder and louder until…
Until you want to explode with the strength
of the vibrations
Tingling all over”…
She covered her face with her hands
“Instead…I try to imagine it as we lie together…
Hoping I can please, can satisfy…
Your father.”

Talking about private matters
Was difficult in her culture
Now, home on semester break
She heard her mother share
The horror of that night
When as a child they held her
Kicking and screaming
Exposing her most private parts
Cutting away the center of desire
The essence of her womanhood
That had been cloistered
In the folds of safety
Leaving her….scarred
 
She squeezed her mother’s hand
This woman whose every move
Made men stare
Exuding sexual charm
She was the epitome
Of every womanly grace….
Yet...unable to feel the fluttering
That some time ago
Had slowly awakened in her own frame
Mysterious sensations

Her mother’s tears
Now fell from her own eyes
She bowed her head in shame
Wanting to blame
Her grandparents for following
The stupid traditions of their world…
Thinking it was best…

Her mother enfolded her in an embrace
And rocked her
“Shhh….don’t cry…
It’s too late for tears now"…

“I’m so so sorry, Mama,” she whispered,
Pulling away
Her mother reached out to wipe her tears
“Feel sorry for your father
I see the pain in his eyes…
Knowing that I cannot feel what he feels…
Often, he won't approach me, but I entice him
I dance for him”…
She smiled…caressing a memory
“He stole my heart
The moment he looked at me with those eyes
How I wish he could see, the fire of his eyes
Burning in mine." 

It that moment, it took shape
The career that had remained
Unborn…in the womb of her mind
She would be the voice…of every little girl
Who had ever screamed in pain...in shame
She’d speak…
For the little girl her mother used to be
For all the others that were to come
So they wouldn't have to grow up
With eyes that reflected pain instead of passion
The pain she now witnessed
…in her mother’s eyes!
No, it was not too late to cry…
Her tears now would be tomorrow’s tears
Of some woman’s tender and sweet release


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

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Be Free

                                                “ Be Free”
                              

                           None of all the people knows me like the rest
                                     Yet they judge me the best
                                    They say bad things about me
                                      That I’m a hero wanna be

                               
                                 The truth is that they don’t know me
                                 All they see about me is negativity
                             Is it because I’m not cool like they’re hero
                             All I can say is that I don’t care about you

                     
                           They call me a thief a thug and laugh about it
                                       I’ll just get my phone and sit
                                  Turn the volume of the music high
                                       Then I’ll just sleep or cry

                                     
                                       All of the misunderstandings  
                                 People who are calling me bad names
                                  Rejecting me hurting me criticize me
             This world have rejected me but I just wanna fly in the sky and be free  


Copyright © Lance Christopher Esmas | Year Posted 2015

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The Right

         The Right 
   I feel in my world
      we all have a 
          voice   
  but to use that voice 
        is your own
           choice 
you have the right to
      make a good
         decision
  you have the right to
     look at a happy
           vision
We all have a right to
     Belong in this
          Nation
     it should not
   matter about the
       population 
 I feel in my world 
   We all have a
        Voice
  But to use that 
   Voice is your
       Choice


Copyright © Carly Kelley | Year Posted 2015

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my promise land

to have and have not
is reason lent to logic
and reality left to disspare

to my heart oh, not where?
the place of peace not there
then where can the weary traverse
where the dreams are not night mares
loud noises not explosions
loud voices not fights
and darkness a place to sleep
rather than a place to hide

who is it that insist
on our depravity
whilst we are not in captivity
fleeced of menial freedoms
by a monsoon of unjust laws

furious my psyche can deduce
that i am not wanted here
in the midst of all the false advertisement
one country can give 
about how much blood was
spilled to make them free

do we dare to think
that this excludes me
have not i been knitted into
the matrix of this thing
called freedom

have my dreams deceived me
about the land of the free
are not rights given in duplicity
and these ideals; do they not 
come from God

to have and have not
the rights of men
and the peace there in
belonging to every citizen


Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2009

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Acedia

Idle hands scorching a trail
Through the Capitol
Closed mouths and hearts turn daggers
Biting our own tongues

And the streets are red rivers 
Through which they drive
golden chariots over the backs
of their forefathers

Words falter, slave and master
plebeian and patrician
And whips silence in return
They dream of a revolt
While breaking their necks to bow

We do protest hotly
In secret chambers
Tear down the throne!
Hang the tyrants!

A bloody revolution!
Let's  then schedule it for the 
King's convenience

Hear she comes, most lovely
She'd slit our throats 
With pleasure
O Gods save our Queen!
She'll pluck this acedia 
from our cold dead hands!

Slaughter the innocent
Distract us with wars!
O Brutus save us from 
our apathy!

What will it take
for our walls to break?
O give us liberty
or at least grain at
our own price!

Give us our tribunes!
There can be no
Republic until
the people speak
themselves


-------------
Inspired by my research for a story. This deals specifically with the establishment of the 
Roman Republic, but plenty of this still rings true to me. Acedia = apathy.


Copyright © A.E. Rivenbark | Year Posted 2014

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You know my torment you hear my cry

Watching the television
Reading the news
I ask not for your views
your case for war is farcical
Your indifference to human suffering is immoral
Yet you call yourselves men of faith and children
Of the clothe
You place your anger on vests of death and drop
Your bombs from birds like rain you kill and maim
And say its in his holy name
To feed your never-ending thirst for greed
You cut the green from the equators belt and clear
The forest to add more wealth
You leave me no clean air to smell
And then you persecute my life and so deprive me
Of my rights and when I rebel and demonstrate
You steal my vote
And filled with hate you lock me up behind
Eelectric gates
And when the continents of ice tell their story
Of immanent demise
You show no concern as winter begs for something cold 
and summer has no layer to hold Its scorching heat 
now uncontrolled
You know my torment you hear my cry
Deliver us from lying lips deceitful tongues and
Genocide
But you turn your sightless gaze aside
The winds though hear my plea and come with
Vengeance as they blow and the rains fall torrential
As they go
And twisters twirl in lands they do not know
The seas lash out with anger in its waters rising
flow
And the earth trembles as the mountains rumble
And fire comes from deep below
Your buildings now come crashing down
The land erodes to only rock and cost you billions
To put them back
And caged in temples of your conceit
You sit and wonder why
And Mother Nature smiles in the aftermath
Of your demise


Earl S. Jackson
Aug 2006



Copyright © 2006 Earl S. Jackson, all rights reserved.



Copyright © Earl Jackson | Year Posted 2006

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RIOT

RIOT Palpable is change. The Lord stated this in Psalms. The world is in an arrest. When change does manifest, what questions will we ask? Palpability to change is a child mind’s eye. She sees into the future and the past. Her destiny will form as her life is discovered. Reach for the moon to go beyond the clouds. Inform the world that brutality is not allowed. Offer a peaceful assembly to stop the violence. This is to return peace to all of our lives. The world is in an arrest. When questions are not asked, many protest to express their frustration. Police brutality is shown and communities demonstrate - That hate is hate. They march in the streets to display their distress. Seeking justice and peace from social injustice. Distinctive is togetherness and unity of thought. The Lord stated in Psalms that change is palpable. Reach for the moon to go beyond the clouds. Inform the world that brutality is not allowed. Offer a peaceful assembly to stop the violence. This is to return peace to all of us - to all of our lives. _____________________________________| Poetry Diva Ms. Verlena S. Walker Penned May 12, 2015!


Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015

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BIG BIG SLAM TO RACISM

Eating, bathing, grooming, defecating and sleeping All these are activities of daily living We are breathing same air Combing everyday our own hair Warmed and darkened by same sun Sleeping after a whole day is done Shot or cut; black and blues we can have Different type but our hearts same. It beats with blood! One time or another we feel sad and glad! You love games and fun. And I,too, is same! Walk, run, talk, smile, cry: all we can do unless for some exemptions Wholeheartedly without hesitations and inhibitions... Captain on our own ships Generals on our own everyday battles Prima ballerina on our own life dance Managers on our own businesses Teachers on our own examples and words Leaders on our own small or big ways Builders and engineers of our own dreams And much much more than we can imagine... But... What are those frowns? Why are those arched eyebrows? What are those questioning belittling look? What and why are those foul remarks? Different skin; different creed Different names, different race Different status; different styles Different lands, different tongues _ The bottomline is God made me and God made you Respect me and I will respect you That we ought to do No need for clue nor cue DO RESPECT BECAUSE IT IS DUE We are equal of dignity Each and everyone possess a deal of integrity All are blessed All are gifted with talents Capable of enhancing a potential And discovering any other grace Explore! Taste the spice! Speak humbly and be nice! You maybe surprise!?! How each and one can entice! Therefore, you! You who are racists! CUT! CRACK! SLAM THAT RACISM CRAP! Take a stand and make it grand! No need for plans! Hand and hand let's make this earth a better land!
(C) Olive Eloisa 12:55am June 11, 2014 * This a terrible truth that still in this modern world we are in RACISM is still present as cruel as it was before.


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2014

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Bladder Problems in Class

Numbers on 
White board…names written hori-
zontally

Students ask
To go pee…right when class starts – 
THAT’S just wrong…

Bathroom line
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!

People are
Not using lunchtime to do 
Their business 

No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
IOUSLY?


Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013

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Fleeting Freedoms

Elderly man’s fishing net hangs in his shed
The fish he caught in his backyard stream multiply
Net use was banned; he couldn’t afford a pole
Joy and sustenance gone, a tear falls from his eye

House Bill 875 would ban backyard farms
Forcing vegetable growers to invest cash
In overpriced produce on supermarket shelves
Uncle Sam flexes his muscle, makes his whip lash

The right to freely worship is endangered
As prayer is prohibited in public schools
Government intrusion invades all our lives
Public pleas are not heard by those who make rules

Freedom to choose our doctors is now threatened
Socialized medicine diminishes choice
Speech censorship? Just ask the Smothers Brothers
Who canceled their own show with a stifled voice

As crime escalates, look to the constitution
The NRA spends billions to protect Americans' rights
To bear arms against oppressors while thieves laugh
And sue owners of homes invaded in the night

Can this be what our forefathers had in mind
When they sought to escape a king’s tyranny?
Our rights are being limited more each day
In a nation spawned to promote liberty

Natural disasters prelude Judgment Day
Eerie escalation – tsunamis, earthquakes
But perhaps when the dust finally settles
Those who survive will learn from our past mistakes

Governments will form only to preserve peace
Not to strip away rights ancestors pursued
Don’t blink!  Precious freedoms are now endangered
By those who feel they’re elected to intrude


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

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Teachers

Teachers, Teachers.
Teachers Teach us.
They give us speeches and praise us like Jesus
But they're not holy, swag.
They cater solely, for themselves;So selfish. 
Some are rude and crabby;So shellfish.
There are fat teachers, black teacherswhite teachers, nice teachersmean teachers, Chinese teachersshort teachers, tall teachers real teachers, fraud teachersThey all have one thing of mutualityIt's the reality that their mentalityis somewhat less of a formality 

But in actuality an amorality to separate individuality and callously cause a casualty within the academy!
This insanity is why humanity can embarrass me because instead of practicalities teachers search for cavities, abnormalities,  incapacitiesand irrationally devise a strategy to tactfully act valiantly.
But will still unhappily fail students for what they see is blasphemyits fallacy!  
This rhapsody I tragically quote rapidly will acidly still be viewed as a travesty
And I'll still disastrously speak profanity to the facultyAnd keep my centre of gravity up like I'm on a balance beam.
I aim to be satisfactory, not great or any better
This madness will fractionally cause my fatality but ill happily see every person that ever doubted me praising me surrounding meclouding me with a comradely like I Just saved the galaxy
And naturally I'm a hero nationally for upstaging our teachers vanity
This Veracity for becoming an anomaly has fuelled my heart with audacity and now I sit lavishly lackingthe spirituality to gallantly care about this municipality that we live in
And teachers teach inso I guess my speech ends with a brief description of some frequent fiction Teachers, if we speak upWill you freakin listen?Because this cheap conviction of you I speak is different.


Copyright © Denzel Kennedy | Year Posted 2015

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he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "

                







Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

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The Choices We Make

Walking down the hallway,
Seeing all the doorways,
And all the choices in life,
Making it difficult to choose,
The right room from all the other rooms,
Bringing you the wisdom and truth,
For the imperfection is within us all,
Which makes us all crawl at times,
On our hands and knees in the dark,
To discover what is right and survive,
In life as long as we can accept,
What life brings to us in our hearts,
Which we patiently accept the pleasures,
And push away the sacrifices much in our lives,
Yet, to correct our flaws we have,
Which causes most our struggles,
Till we open our eyes,
And see what we have and must believe,
That our lives are greater than we ever know,
Cause God created it all for us,
But the choices are ours to make,
To find the happiness,
Which is ours to be found and kept.


Copyright © John Hembree | Year Posted 2013

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I Have A Dream

Unlike Martin Luther King Junior 
I am not a black man
but I also have a dream 
I also dream about equality
 
the love of a world
that care's, for all of it's people
I also am a Christian in a world
that needs to find love

All men should stand up
 to speak against inequality
to speak against injustice 
to pass the hand of friendship

poverty holds suffering 
and trangression in it's arms
driving the world into anger 
and pain, our children into drugs

Stand tall and become a man 
refuse to waste your lives with guns
refuse to waste your lives on violence
education holds the path to success

A friend of mine that is dark skinned 
said all of her friends want the office jobs
yet wealth and success 
come on the back bone of hard work

If a man takes a job as a cleaner 
the wage still provides the money
to improve your education
knowledge is power the road to success

The colour of your skin does not stop you
Eddy Murphy, Oprah Winfrey, Obama
and thousands more have found success
doctors nurses business men

Poverty has your children 
turning to drugs
anger has them turning to violence
violence has them going to prison

I meet a man at the train station
who said I hate the blacks
I asked him why and he said
six of them held a knife to me 

and demanded money
When you pick up a gun
or attack a man with a knife 
you encourage discrimination

when you respect people 
and earn a career 
you encourage the world 
to have respect for you







Copyright © Bernard Barclay | Year Posted 2015

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Human Rights Day

Brought forth into this world
an innocent child, by birth;
yet born equal and free
in rights and dignity.

Live and let live
this gift the recognition
as an unique individualised person.
Let it grow in the freedom of laughter
and own thoughts of its happy ever-after…
Let it be, let it strive
let it be alive –
it has the right to life and liberty
and is enfolded by the hands of security.

Grow up, little child,
you are free
from imprisonment and slavery.
Do not fear of being abused
or unjustly treated or used.
You are worthy of a shield that fights
for your undivestable human rights.

Be not afraid to live,
to love and to forgive;
to wipe away all sorrow –
there might be no tomorrow…
Go ahead – trust, believe, pray;
you have the freedom to do it in whatever way.
The freedom to thought, conscience and religion –
Child, you have the right – it is your decision.

By being educated, being drilled
you may one day change the world.
Promulgate what you know now
and contently observe just how
this diverse world instantly unites
when fighting for its human rights.


Copyright © Birgit Johannes | Year Posted 2015

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What Is This Church All About

What Is This Church All About?

Is this church meant for people like me?
Is this where God really wants me to be?

They claim to be filled with God’s spirit.
When it comes to HIS truth...  Can they give it?

I’m sure there’s many who come and attend
It’s more than “church on Sunday,” that we must spend!

We must reach out to the lost and the oppressed!
After all, Christ gave us his very best!

May we all preach the gospel and God’s holiness!
And strive to seek his awesome righteousness!

Living for Jesus must be a daily walk and experience!
Not simply based on our “ambitious self appearance.”

God isn’t interested in a denomination or a title…
He wants to know…  Do we really believe the Bible?

He’s not interested in the money put in the offering plate.
He wants to know; “Are you ready
 to enter heaven’s gate?”

May we strive to serve Jesus with a zeal and passion!
And be filled with his holiness and compassion!

May we serve Jesus from a heart of humbled confession!
And making our commitment to him,
 our #1 possession!

“Unless the Lord builds the house.”  
They labor in vain that build it!
Let’s seek the power of God! 
May his presence completely fill it!!

By Jim Pemberton    



Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

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Equal Rights

Equal Rights are guaranteed by law
Quality of life has a major flaw
Universal acceptance will start the thaw
American laws are still too raw
Leadership lost the bigoted draw

Rights are rights, they belong to all
Idiots who fear to make the call
Give equality or watch the nation fall
Help the just tear down the wall
Truth prevail while hate will stall
See us from the dark ages crawl


Discrimination is discrimination no matter
how it is disguised.


Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2013