Freedom of the Press poems

Published: Tuesday, 24 March 2015 Written by Inoela Vital, Manushree Kale, Dominique John-Phillip

English Group Presentation Poems

Freedom Of Press

 Don’t we, too, need freedom of press?

by Inoela Vital


I am just an ordinary citizen

Try not to get myself in fights

But I think it’s sad:

The things to which

We have so little rights  


Last week, a friend came over

From some strange and foreign land

The tales he had

To share with me

You could not understand!


He said things like, “Mass communication

Is not more than a few clicks away”

You go right to

The internet

To tell the world what you want to say


And the people who live in such places

They can select who wears the crown

We’ve only ever had

One leader

He’s been there my whole life long


And also, millions are fighting.

Plagued by sickness, poverty, war

Their patience up

For slaughter

I’ve never heard this on news before


I do not get why all this information

Is so difficult to access

It’s hard to tell

What’s false or true

Don’t we, too, need freedom of press?


The Newspaper Writers’ Song

by Manushree Kale


Denied again, my freedom to speak,

Just as my job, my lifes’ work is at its peak.

My family, my friends being threatened each day,

Though the only thing I do is write the truth.

The government endanger our lives to keep us at bay,

Slaughtering us, one by one, expecting us to condone their ruth.


I make sure to keep hidden, to get each and every moment,

To get every bit of truth, and hope everyone else learns it.

My family and friends still love me, when they shouldn’t.

The amount of times I put them in danger,

I told them to stop, to leave me be, but the said they couldn’t,

The amount of dreams I have about them being murdered by a dark stranger.


No matterwhat I do, I have to keep running,

From North to South, from East to West,

In coldest of dark nights or even when the fiery sun is shining.

I told my family and friends, I love them to pieces,

I told them to ignore me and stay away,

To not become like dogs stuck on leashes.


But that’s the way my life is,

Never sake, running from the law,

Though I’ve done nothing wrong.

But that’s how it is,

It’s the newspaper writers’ song.


Government Spy

by Dominique J. John-Phillip


I look at these people

Sharing their thoughts

Rhyming, crying, preaching

Selling their point across

Sharing their experience

Speaking of how they are victims

To the government

The banners of democracy

The dictators and controllers

Controllers of the media

The implementors of curfews

The passers of laws


Don’t they see that lack of free media

Keeps away the useless panic?

That the brutal and numerous laws create a peaceful environment

And a place where everyone fits in?


So I look at these people,

Afraid now the’ve been caught

Awaiting their punishment.


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