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 Aug 2017 Anushka
Seema
He was a lonely boy
Always fixing a broken toy
Dirt covered his face
Old shoes with no lace
But he wore them today
It was his sisters birthday
And he was fixing her doll
Someone gave a sudden call
Which left him in tears
Then came his darkest fears
His mother's voice shouting
Crying, his sense undoubting
He pretended not to hear
It was a special day of the year
He was going to see her
At the foot of the hill, afar
She lived there alone
In the cold, under a tombstone
Last year, he planted flowers
When bloomed, he sat there for hours
Today he's got her another gift
Her favorite doll that came adrift
By a narrow creek nearby
He always wondered why
His beautiful sister got taken away
Far to be buried, where she lay
Alone, along the plain meadows
Where lived now the shadows
Of those dead, buried in ground
Where huge raintrees surround
He picked her favorite flowers
And walked towards the stone towers
There a flowery grave waited
To be visited and weeded
After done with clearing
He sat there grieving and tearing
Telling her stories of his life
How often he's threatened with a knife
But with a smile, he promised to be brave
As he curled up, beside his sisters grave...

©sim
Can you picture this :)
 Aug 2017 Anushka
Seema
Love has no religion
Nor does hate
But in every society
There is a rate

The superiority of faith
Over the many gods
All who reside in heaven
As we live between odds

If only our blood color
Reflected our skin
Then the religion we belong
Would be easy to pin

The devil in our heads
Plays the tune of hatred
And makes us believe
In other demeaning sacred

Fooling us to the extent
Where we **** each other
Regardless of who they are
Either it's the mother or father

A complete brainwashed
From the faith of love
While rotting in the prison
Then we hail our prayers above...

©sim
Hate no one, love everyone.
  I have not criticized any religion in my poem. Neither do I condemn or degrade any beliefs. I wrote this piece "Love and Religion" just like any other poem I write. It is nothing to do with my personal belief. If my poem somehow gave you a negative insight, then I am truly sorry. Thanks!
 Jun 2017 Anushka
Brandi R Lowry
Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.
For Ty & Des ❤️

— The End —