Pretty house in a garden,
Pretty lie in a gather
With no plans to start,
And no trainstations to wait,
With no roads to try,
And no waitings to miss,
No seas on the back grounds,
No fireworks playing,
No owls to see,
No bowls to keep,
Or runs to fake.
Only us , seeing ,
What shouldn’t have been,
Seeing through the banner of our skin,
The banner of the moon,
Our glory days,
Never reached , never run to,
No crowd watched the plays,
Our talents never claimed,
Not by eyes , not by us,
Strange times not led by us
Strange time of our lives,
But through shadows we survive.
Strange times we laugh and cry,
Strange times , black cloudy sky,
We play and wonder why,
Why we wandered ,
The smell of the fridge,
The taste of cherry pi,
Why the skies above,
Are colored with death?
The glass poured down told us she left,
The roots stayed,
So does our days,
Not watered,
Not blessed,
But dug by our will.
To smile, to scream, to try,
Cups of coffee whispered to me:
“The days will end,
No matter how much u drink me”
I held my grandma’s hand because mine is cold,
I held my grandma’s memory,
Because my life is cold,
I held my life with my hands with the cold,
Because i am a contagious disease,
Transmitted through letters,
Written by my hands,
Sent to a warm sea,
In a bottled heartfull memory.
zaki monzer 