Posts
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This is our last sentence
This is my last sentence: We all belong here.
This is her last sentence: We all are loved.
This is his last sentence: We are a community.
This is their last sentence: Good will conquer evil.
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Woven
Woven from feelings of happiness and friendship, short-lived as those feelings may be.
Woven from a cat’s meow and a dog’s tail wag.
Woven from ideals of love and compassion.
Woven from goodness itself.
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Who I am
Do you hear our voices? Our voices longing to be free? Our voices that are suppressed time and time again? Simply because of our identities?
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Winter: A time of year
Winter. A time of year we all know well.
A time of year when we hear the ringing of every bell.
A time of year when adults laugh and children play,A time of year that lasts many a day.
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Autumn Girl
She sat on the steps, enjoying the brisk autumn air. It was the day before Halloween and the smell of cinnamon hung in the air. She knew she’d have to go in soon, but for now life was perfect.
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Falling Leaf
8/15/1774
Monday
Dear Diary,
Today was strange. I met a man riding a mule. He was a queer looking sorta man, all sticks and bones and hair. He even had an eye-patch!
Loves
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Is This the Future?
No matter how far I run
how loud I scream
how hard I try
I'm never fast enough
never loud enough
never good enough.
Because even if I am,
I'm not.
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Life, Freedom, Joy
For every woman being raped.
For every trans made illegal.
For every Native forced out of their home.
For every black person called “lesser.”
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Winter: A time of year
Winter. A time of year we all know well.
A time of year when we hear the ringing of every bell.
A time of year when adults laugh and children play,A time of year that lasts many a day.
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For Every Time
Every time a women makes 87 cents
A man makes a dollar
For every time a woman gets spoken down on
A man is the speaker
For every time a woman gets called weak
A man is weaker
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Dull Roar
I'm so mad I can hardly write poetry anymore,
every word rushes out and tumbles down,
knocking the inside of my skull,
a dull roar that follows me to school and home again.
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Battle Cries
One girl’s lanky frame against the dark turf field,
lit up by fluorescent lights
She saunters toward the building
holding another girl’s hand