Short Off The Streets Poems
Short Off The Streets Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Off The Streets by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Off The Streets by length and keyword.
The kids are off the streets
There are new lessons to learn
They are back at school once again
To feed their brains in order to earn
Another year to sharpen their skills
Teach them to move towards the light
Open those books and study
In order to make their world bright
branch burdened with snow
long winter
we wait
“Storm of the Century” Minneapolis, Minnesota
12/11/10
5:10 pm
“Roads Closed”…… City Plows pulled off the streets! “White-Out” Blizzard! I walked ½ block
to the indoor track and it was like walking towards a runaway freight- train!
in this
dystopic
nation
masked thugs
tear
babies
from their mothers' arms
raking them
off the streets
disappearing
inheritors of the kingdom
you who believe
in the ever-after
there will be
a time after
when evil visits the evil
payday
isn't always Friday
I can't wait to
write a poem then
a poke in your
blind eye
Black, black
Born black
Head to toe black
Back black, side black, cock black
Every inch black
Midnight without a star,
Black Friday, black Saturday, every day black male
Black out from home
Black in the pen
Ba, ba, black sheep off the streets
Whack, whack stocked against black Jack
Black hair, black beard
Pirate, attack black
Rat-a-tat, payback
Skin shine, melanin design, black Knight
Black Friday night
the ignorant in the dark...
2006 4 million deaths...
children of hiv infects
1,000,000 orphans...
living off the streets...
Mother to child transmission...
Despair and confusion...
South Africa 1,000 deaths
per day...
infected - affected
aids complications...
devastation pain and loss...
suffering endured...
calm...
careful...
engage - activate
Aids pandemic...
without a cure...
...the living among obscure...
I promise to do more than escape…
I promise to leave behind my blazing light to keep the others safe.
The power of a hundred people reaching their own peak.
Trying to grasp shadows, the flickering lights leave us weak.
Left to lie on the floor as if we are pestilence.
We would rather be in the twisting alleys than listen to their insistence.
Some days I wonder if we were picked off the streets at random…
Or if we were each chosen to be altered in this room.