Not Book Related · Poetry

Myth? By Alex Hill

Some say it’s myth.

Those are fools.

They don’t want things to change.

Always want things to stay the same.

Studies have been done, but people look past.

They would rather say it is wrong

Then face the facts.

We work just as hard,

but nothing has changed.

One day maybe if we work hard enough

that eighty percent will one day

be one hundred percent.

 

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Poetry

My Body by Alex Hill

He said my body was his.

He said I was his.

I was his to hurt.

His to harass.

At least to him.

He thought he was entitled

But what he didn’t understand was

I didn’t have to be his.

I didn’t have to stay at home.

I didn’t have to get him a beer when he gets back from work.

I didn’t have to pick up his stuff.

I was not an object or prize.

I was a person.

He couldn’t harass me.

He couldn’t hurt me.

I was not his.

My body is mine.

Poetry

Me Too By Alex Hill

Me too

 

He said I was pretty,

Said I was special.

He took advantage of me.

I added my name to the list, me too.

She was just walking down the street,

When he called out obscenities.

She put her name on the list, me too.

He was powerful, everyone knew him

If someone accused him, no one would believe.

She silently added her name to the list, me too.

She woke up feeling funny, naked, and bare.

The last thing she remembered was taking a drink.

She cried out, adding her name to the list, me too.

She fought hard, but it wasn’t enough.

He was stronger, bigger, powerful.

His eyes were burning with fire,

While hers were overflowing with tears.

She added her name to the list, me too.

She took him to court, she wouldn’t back down.

He was burning with rage, she was scared.

Her knees were shaking, buckling

But she couldn’t turn away now.

She might have added her name to the list,

But she wouldn’t do it silently.