Poems on Black History Month

Published on February 11, 2019 with No Comments

My Black is Beautiful

and no one can tell me otherwise.

from my big curly hair

to my milky complexion

and curvy figure.

The one and only Rihanna

taught me that people doubted her

but she showed them

Our Black is Beautiful.

Niue McAllister – student

 

We are One

I believe everyone is beautiful

regarding their race, religion or color.

I think black is beautiful because of

the many things’ blacks have done for us.

I can’t even be listed on this one piece of paper

what I love about our blacks.

Kevin Flint – student

 

We are the Same

My hair complexion is black

and my complexion I light.

My favorite woman is Maya Angelou

because her poems inspire me.

And Kevin Hart is funny.

It doesn’t matter what is your skin color.

We may speak differently and do

different things. Inside, we are the same.

Tiesha McAllister – student

 

 

Hate is a Virus

Communicate face to face

with kindness of the heart.

Someone that has praise

for another has something in common.

The act of coming together

shows respect for one person to another.

Seliah Mitchell – student

 

The Best Way

The best way to communicate

is to speak calmly to one another.

There’s no need for the extras-

no yelling, no cursing, no facial expressions,

no nothing.

The best way is to be kind

and put your thoughts out

without putting the others down.

Niue McAllister – student

 

Halloween

Halloween, these cats getting stuck in trees

these people are now free

next period going to P.E.

the waves are in the sea

people can see

i’m in a corn maze

i’m in the new cool phase

donuts with pumpkin glaze

i’m on stage

we should add another page

some of these people are in rage

by the end of the day

people getting payed

sitting on the edge of my seat

these people know how to fleet

when it comes to these streets

this awesome poem should repeat!

Kevin Flint – student

 

New Bus

They said they only had

room for two.

But there’s four of us.

Ellie starts to cry and cuss.

Now I have to take the bus.

Julieona Wages – student

Posted in Poet Laureate

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