WORLD POETRY DAY | 10 poems on social issues

March 21st, World Poetry Day officially declared by UNESCO (the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) in 1999 to promote the reading, writing, publishing and teaching of poetry throughout the world and, as the original UNESCO declaration says, to "give fresh recognition and impetus to national, regional and international poetry movements".
Poetry being what it is has been a means and one of the best outlets to let out the words and unsaid stories in the heads of individuals throughtout the world.

We present to you 10 poems dealing with social issues worldwide some of which were originally curated on ArtHut and hope these poems aids in shaping your view of the world at large too.

Here goes nothing

Fist, Rebellion, Rebel, Arm, Arms, Store
STAND UP by Constance Truth

Different shades, colors, tones, and hues
Blacks and whites always singing the blues
They’re always thinking that they’re superior
They’re always feeling that they’re inferior
Seriously, why can’t we all just get along?
Why do we keep singing the same old song?
Your hate will drown in the sea of tolerance
Slowly dying without an attentive audience
I stand tall in the face of oppressive racism
I refuse to support the unspoken “hate system”
Challenging the thoughts of the close-minded
Opening the eyes of those who are blinded
Teaching my child to have acceptance of others
That we’re all connected, sisters and brothers
Kneel, stand, march, type it loudly online
Dim the power of hate; refuse to let it shine
The “race card” is played because it’s in the deck
It’s beyond time to put racist attitudes in check
Don’t be afraid to stand for what you believe
You might be surprised at what you can achieve
Our world would be fine, existing through better design
If you can tackle ignorance one person at a time.


Human, Street Parade, Bandwagon
THE SYSTEM by Stopdaviolencewp

Mental Assasination
Physical Annihilation
Poverty and Taxation
leading to suicidal Aspirations
It's an Abomination!


Manhattan, New York City
SEVEN BILLION by Colorado Brian

It's hard to comprehend hundreds of millions.
Of human kind, there's seven billion.

Seven Billion boys and girls
Walking around this great big world

Some don't think within the 'norm'
In society they're unable to conform

If they don't think like you and me
Does not mean they are - "lazy"

Some that think outside the box
Suffered through a school of hard knocks

Unable to work from 9 to 5
Their minds tormented, barely alive

Seven billion human brains
Some will struggle to sustain

Others judge them and torment
When pain & suffering they could prevent

Some can't see beyond their scope
The reasons to give people Hope

Seven billion human minds
Let's find a reason to be kind.


Sad, Depressed, Depression, Sadness
WHAT IS DEPRESSION by Margaret Wairimu

Depression is waking up early in the morning 
Planning to brace yourself with happy memories 
But on trying to step out of the house you get stuck 
So you spend the whole day sulking 
And wondering 
Why me?

Depression is being anxious when you are around people 
Wondering if they can see beneath your skin 
See the horrible person beneath 
Depression is asking yourself if everyone around you hates you 
And silently asking Karma to pay his visit soonest

Depression is cursing destiny for making your parents for meet in kawangware
'wondering why they fell in love and conceived you 
'constantly wondering why they decided on bringing you to this terrible world
'wondering why you were not killed before you planned to  kill yourself 

Depression is constantly remembering the episodes of the horrid day 
Every act dawn to dusk fresh in your mind
How Jason tore your body apart 
How you told him to stop a myriads of times
How his scornful laugh scared the faith of humanity out of your body 

Depression is feeling like a pariah in your own body 
Wondering when your body left you and your spirit 
Wondering why day in day out you feel the same emotion 
And over and over crying to your ancestors 
To curse death upon you 

Depression is saying novena for an early death
And day one to nine you are on your knees 
And sadly on the tenth day you still swallowing the Diantrix 
And wondering if D5 can work better 
To shun the demons from  your system 

Depression is feeling very hungry
But on the sight of food your stomach is magically full 
Depression is cooking your favourite meal 
Serving it and just gaze at it till cold

Depression is crying all the tears in your eyes 
And still cry out the energy left in your  body 
Depression is feeling sleepy today at 7 am
Yet you were in bed at 7pm yesterday 
Depression is having insomnia for days, weeks, months you can't count 

Depression is feeling the sturdy smell of your blood appealing 
Depression is breaking your mirror to pieces 
So that you can be able to tattoo the word pain or I quit in your arm or thigh 
Depression is feeling no pain when you tear your epidermis apart 
Not enjoying any of it but still finding demons holding your hand and giving it strength to quench the blades thirst 
Depression is smoking a whole G-bag of weed a week 
Drinking crates after crates of beer
Depression in popping diazepam in your body like groundnuts 
Depression in waking up at 6 am to visit mama Pima 
And spend the whole day drinking the illicit brew  

Depression is planning to start going to church coming Sunday 
Setting  a million  alarms so that you can wake up at  6 am 
And sure at 6 am you are rushing to your bathroom 
But when you see the image of yourself in the mirror 
Your reflection starts laughing at you calling you a fool and good for nothing
Depression is feeling scared to go home 
Least your dad release season 50 of his favourite series mental torture

Depression is your brain singing melodies to your heart 
Ukulele making the song more appeasing 
But when you listen to the lyrics 
Your brain cells are constantly saying 
'bitch when are you gonna die?'

Depression is asking for help a million times 
Not literally because your heart is the one bleeding its cells out 
And sadly 
You want people to see you 
See the pain inside 

Depression is feeling trapped in your own skin 
Trying to free yourself 
But thousands and thousands of mountain lay ahead 
Oceans you can't swim 
And deserts you can't close
So you just sit 
Bleeding inside,
That someone may notice your pain.


Index, Finger, Pointing, You, Hand, Me
I, TOO by Langston Hughes (1902-1967)

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,"

They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.


Crossfit, Sports, Fitness, Training
STILL I RISE by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like suns and like moons,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.


When God Happens by Mike Rosen


Speak, Talk, Microphone, Tin Can, Can
FREEDOM OF SPEECH by Lucie Brock Broido

If my own voice falters, tell them hubris was my way of adoring you.
The hollow of the hulk of you, so feverish in life, cut open,

Reveals ten thousand rags of music in your thoracic cavity.
The hands are received bagged and examination reveals no injury.

Winter then, the body is cold to the touch, unplunderable,
                                 Kept in its drawer of old-world harrowing.

Teeth in fair repair. Will you be buried where; nowhere.

Your mouth a globe of gauze and glossolalia.
And opening, most delft of blue,
                                                                  Your heart was a mess—

A mob of hoofprints where the skittish colts first learned to stand,
Catching on to their agility, a shock of freedom, wild-maned.

The eyes have hazel irides and the conjunctivae are pale,

With hemorrhaging. One lung, smaller, congested with rose smoke.
The other, filled with a swarm of massive sentimentia.

                                                                   I adore you more. I know
The wingspan of your voice, whole gorgeous flock of harriers,

Cannot be taken down. You would like it now, this snow, this hour.
                                 Your visitation here tonight not altogether unexpected.

The night-laborers, immigrants all, assemble here, aching for to speaking,
                                                                                        Longing for to work.

Gloomy, Mystical, Style, Mood
THE EVIL THAT MEN DO by Freedom Of Speech

It’s coming to a town near you, 

For we, the men, are out to get you, 

Twisted beliefs, 

Living on a razors edge, 

A want of the erotic, 

A need so hungry, we cannot seem to fill, 

Mans primary instinct, 

Is still intact, after so many years, 

Society tried to abolish, 

The laws they try to contain, 

This world we live in, is so full of pain, 

Brought about by mainly men, 

The act of war…

Pushing the buttons, that your son will die for…

Sent into battle, by the faceless, 

He will never be the same, 

We read about the war, 

But never take the time, 

To comprehend, 

That death is a manifest that many men, dread to see, 

Driven to the end, pushed to the limit, 

The screams inside a mans mind, can never be heard, 

Walking into that darkness, like a small child, 

Clutching his favourite toy, looking around, 

His wide, staring eyes, 

Once was blue, 

Now forever, will remain black, 

After tasting the death, cast down from above, 

Thrown back into society, once the job is done, 

And you expect him to be the same? ? 

After living the life, Of the insane...

For god help you


Image result for fgm
HELP ME FIGHT FGM by Esther Andaye

You claim you are helping,
But are you really  sure?
Is your conscience right?
Is this the same thing you can wish to be done to you?
So why then hurt them?
Why snatch away their teen?
Why take away their joy?
Girls, women,

We are blinded by our culture,
Sparing not a glance for the reality,
It is a future we are sacrificing,
All in the name of rite of passage,
But is it really fair?
Is it right to hurt our girls?
Is it right to uphold FGM?

I know it is a culture that you practise,
I know rules are there to be followed,
But can we bend just a single one?
Or should we just follow it?
Even if it is up to no good?
Even if instead of helping it is destroying?
Even if our future depends on it being changed?

They are left crying, hurt,
They are left to bleed to death,
Their generation cut,
Their bodies with infection are left,
Depression, their hearts cant escape,
Alone the are left,
Who even choose to care,

But we should care,
We should stand for change,
We should bend the rules,
It is humanity we should fight for,
Future generation whose voice cant be heard,

Let us build an army,
Fight for what is right,
We who destroy,
Are the same people to build,

I stand to fight FGM.


It takes no more than a voice and a helping hand to aid another off problems.
Keep the pen inking!

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