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Michael Hill May 2016
There was a girl named Stephie who loved her grandma
when she visited every day
when her grandma would leave
she would begin to cry
until she would see her grandma again
when Stephie girl went out to the yard
she saw this flower growing strong
she picked it up kept it safe
to give her grandma came by again
she saw her mother pack the car
were going to grandmas house instead
so Stephie ran and jumped in
making sure she had the flower in her hand
when they got up to the house the rang the bell
Stephie held the flower up in the air
until a nasty hornet landed on the flower
then gave Stephie a big big sting
she watched the flower break apart
the pedals fall and spread all across the door
as grandma opened up Stephie began to cry
for her flower she got her grandma dead
her tears were falling down her hand had swollen up
as grandma brought her inside
when she was sat up against the sink she held up her hand
with the stem of the flower that was left.
grandma smiled gave Stephie a kiss
then told her what she would do
"I'm gonna plant this outside water it everyday until the flower grows a knew"
Stephie stop tearing gave her grandma s smile
as she watched her owey disappear
they hugged each other tight before her mother said goodnight
then went home the mother asked if she was ok
Stephie smiled said everything is fine
grandma is going to make a new flower grow
she kept the smile on her face
sat and began to think how everything is now ok
this is a true story
Henrie Diosa Feb 2023
our lady in the dress of tulle
too pure for paint and lace;
the innocent but not the fool,
the everlasting grace!
you've changed since all those weeks ago,
since all those people fell,
but only pete and stephie know
and they can never tell.

your velvet step's still well-behaved
although your mouth's demurer;
and by your works the town is saved,
the world is all the purer!
and they can call you nerdy *****,
at least it means you're clean;
nobody mourns a ***** dude
who's murdered at eighteen.

endure the gaze of ***** heads
and lure them down your path,
to where you snare them in your threads
when you unleash your wrath!
the act may be demonic, but
through you, it feels divine —
you are the righteous angel that
they cannot undermine.

you are the wielder of the axe
of abstinence and will
you are the faith that cannot lapse,
the hands that clasp to ****
to save each persecuted *****
a kingdom in the sky.
nobody mourns a ***** dude.
they all deserve to die.

— The End —