They made you into a weapon
Then told you to find out peace
I killed a part of myself in heaven
To bring you living in one piece
Threaten with power to manipulate
They took you to war to invade
Oh my soldier why did you participate?
They killed you under the name of fate
From the oldest hearts of humanity
Wars gained nothing but segregation
To their affairs they claimed its legality
Yet to our race a bleak aggravation
And at the end of our chess games
All pawns, rooks, knights, and bishops
All the dead who lost their names
With Queen and King go to the same box

∴ Lyna Salman

Black race, yellow, red, or white
Hearts are all the same inside
Inside flesh, heart, and brain unite
Despite the skin we wear to hide
Despite the color we have at birth
We share the same moon and sun
With colors we paint mother earth
And each of us is God's dear son
I am in love with all man colors
Aren't we all from the same tree?
Same feelings... same matters
Aren't you a reflection of me?
Racism poisons are everywhere
All sorts of division into war
History couldn't make us aware
How ignorant and divided we are!

∴ Lyna Salman

I imagined your cheeks a red rose
And poured my kisses so close
Poor rose it seemed to hear
My cravings to have you near
So i picked it up quickly to see
To feed the missing of you in me
And when the winds of love howled
And each lover his lover called
I regreted i picked the rose so
Perhaps it had a lover i don't know

∴ Lyna Salman

Every night I prayed
Thankful for my life
A home, a job, a son, a wife.
My prayers, I believed,
Kept it all together.
Thankful also for our health,
Grateful for the simple things
For I thought
If I took nothing for granted
My prayers would have
More chance of being noticed.

And then you left.
Taking your prayers with you
Must have meant you stopped
Praying for me.
I quickly realised how yours
Had been the only ones
That had been listened to.
Mine had probably never
Reached their target,
Falling somewhere back to earth.

When I'm in a bad mood
I'm not a poetic dude –
All I can be is rude.

But when I’m in a Good mood
Those blues get ******* –
And I might even get lewd.

For when I feel good
I walk into the wood
Where my dreams are stood.

I love to bring joy
That will never cloy
Oh boy.

I have the vision
No indecision
Or derision.

See all that beauty,
This might get fruity –
Quite a *****.

But now I must go,
It’s the end of this show,
Cue Cupid’s bow.

Paul Butters

© PB 7\6\2020.