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The day our souls died
we fought for money and gold
but our souls survived
we didnt do what we were told
but our souls survived
and then we killed animals for fun
but our souls weren’t done they survived
until one day
we killed each other
sister to sister brother to brother
and that was the day our souls truly died

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I love you

I love you
i without a doubt love you
it is all i could possibly do
i will never do anything other
i love you loke i could never love another
when things are slow all i do
is think about you
for you are never boring never mean
always kind always keen
i will always love you no matter what
for the ropes that bind our love i will not cut

Broken

broken
the mountain broke right in half
and then the clouds did not laugh
the rivers cried the oceans sobbed
the daisy’s heads mournfully bobbed
although they knew nothing could be done
they tried to heal him with the sun
it worked oh yes it did
the nature was as thrilled as a kid
they danced and played every day
because everything was finnaly okXX

Trapped in the state of love
if love were to be so kind
and not trap me in a box
in other words a state of mind
while my brain gently rocks
while my brain rattles bashes and battles
i suddenly think is love realy that bad
is resisting just making it sad
as i ponder wonder and wander
my heart started to cry
i went to the hospital and they said to take it easy
but how could i take it easy
when my heart was snifly and sneasy
so what i did was pick up a book
and with the pages i started to look
and then i fell in love

Ok here is my expanation for my poem this poem came to me while i was lying in my mothers bed. I thought to myself obedience, what is obedience? and the poem came to me much like all the others do this poem really means there is no perfect child and as my 4 year old cousin plainly explained to me you get what you get and you dont get upset.

The obiediant child
The obiediant child did not play
The obiediant child worked all day
The obiediant child only loves
The obiediant childs robe is as white as doves
The obiediant child does not talk,
never runs, only walks
the obiediant childs parents are in bliss
to bad that she does not exist.

First post

Hey guys, My name is Maria stein i’m 11 and a half years old and i write poetry.
I first started writing when i was 6 years old. My first poem was about my grandparents dog who sadly had to be put down. Ever since then I have been writing , reading and understanding poetry.
This is my first blog and (except for this one) all of my posts will have a poem in it.
hope you enjoy,

Best regards,
-M stein

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