The Poetic Political
Fumings of a Feisty Feminist
Making waves of change, one poem at a time.
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He’s running to his death
As the bombs begin to fall Hot shrapnel all around Each one to close to call. The noise is overwhelming And the screams are quite intense He can see them running towards him Off in the remote distance. As he’s running closer to him We both are out of breath I’m just like him, he’s just like me We’re running to our death.
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Poetry by: AsherahAlthough she was selectively edited out of the Bible two thousand years ago, she raises her voice for women today in hopes of a better tomorrow, as she makes waves of change, one poem at a time. Archives
May 2020
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