My Crack in the Wall

By KC

Every day I awake in an open grave
And leave my slab to walk among the tombs

Massive monuments built to mark bad decisions and love lost
Life and freedom shattered by time being watched over by men with guns

I am not alone, for thousands walk with me
A nation of the undesirables left to rot above ground

Who like crabs hold each other back from reaching peace of mind
They thrive in the misery of their fellow man and thirst for dominance

They think the title King Crab is an honor
Don’t they see? King of the damned is still damned himself

I am different from most here
I walk in the land of the dead focused on life

Time is harsh, but my dreams have never decayed
Stepping stones made from ink on paper keep me on track

Words from loved ones lost, now found, tell me
I am human not an animal, and to never lose myself

Do or die among the dead until you get to the living
And never let the flame of life burn out, it connects us

So, I walk among the tombs every day
Looking for that crack in the wall, that slither of light

Today I’ve found her, and her name is…
Well that doesn’t matter

What matters in the end, today’s a good day
And my crack in the wall has just gotten a little bigger

On the Same Page

By JA

When I read, I’m alive not dead

The words tell me so much I’ve read

On the page, I’ve met the other travelers

On the page, I’ve been to the favelas

On the page, I’ve felt heartbreak, elation, scorn

I read to learn, move on

When I read, I feel alive, not dread

When I read I know where to head

When I meet you on the page, I smile, nod head in acknowledgement

When I write I use plenty emotion

My words express whatever mood I’m in

I want you to understand my position, my thoughts

Hear me out let me in on this paper

My pen will talk

I write to tell you what’s inside

When I write, I feel, know I’m alive

When I write, you know my objections, you honor my war cries

When you meet me on the page, you also might smile

I Write

By AL aka Black Messiah

I write to mentally open
the eyes of the blind,
for the “love” of all people
so no child is left behind.

I write for single mothers and
fathers struggling to get by,
for the ones battling addiction
and the urge to get high.

I write for those who vote
and hope for change,
for the homeless vets on the
corner begging for pocket change.

I write for the women not
allowed to read or write,
for the individuals who can’t
see past black and white.

I write for the children just
wanting a safe place to play,
for the parents who wait by
the phone and pray.

I write for all races no
matter what you’ve been through,
so, when they ask why I write
I tell them for you.

Weapon of Choice

By MR

My mom’s once told me, “Son drop the gun and pick up a pen…”
And let your words become a weapon that’ll demonstrate
positivity amongst both women and men…
So I began to express my pain and disregard
my insecurities and shame…
Because I soon understood, being myself wasn’t a façade,
but a position of change…
So I no longer encourage violence when there’s a glorifying truth in talent…
Within the message to obtain balance and orchestrate proof
that will conquer the challenge…
That we face every day in modern society…
The system was designed specifically to degrade convicted felons,
so nobody would hire me…
However, I chose to remain clever…
Because resilience became an evolutional guidance that created
opportunities beyond measure…
So if my words can somehow inspire those who are lost to find
their truth and desires…
Then the sacrifice was worth me weaponizing my thoughts
instead of picking up a gun to fire …POW

The Gift of Flowers

By AC

A seed is planted in the fertile lands inside my mind.
I faintly hear it turning into a beautiful idea
as if, I heard a voice trying to speak to me
through time, through the distance
and through any obstacles that there might be.

But I pay attention to it and nurture it
until it transforms into a thought
with roots spreading fast;
Trunk, branches, leaves,
and then there are flowers, at last.

I cut one of those flowers and offer it
to a kind soul willing to hear what it’s about.
And I know that I can share any of these flowers
as long as none of them is meant to do any harm.

I give you the flowers that only grow inside my mind,
because I have the freedom to express
the things that I can only see with my own eyes.

We have the right to show the world what lies within our hearts;
The right to declare that we are alive;
And the power to show them exactly who we are.

 

About this poem: to write a speech or poem about what the phrase “freedom of speech” means.