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Maddie May 2018
There is sadness in it all
your gaze towards the stars
fuzz peach-soft
your voice
bitter as a bad patch of coffee
kisses filled with pomegranade love:
I swallow little seeds of doubt
in hazy sweet cotton or crisp clear morning
there
is
sadness
late night 14.05
GulRukh Oct 2017
She
Judge by color, flaw, race.
Kept in one then in other cage.
Blank canvas, lone page,
She is fade, afraid, strayed,
but she calls ***** a *****,
call her lemonade,
pomegranade or a maid.
She can never get rid of her own masquerade.
All being might not be equal but no deserve rage
but wants consideration, mercy and assuage

— The End —