rivers of fire
"guided missiles, misguided men"
the morning the sun didn't rise
where do the birds fly to
where do the cats hide
in the city where
blood stained alleys
dissolve in acid rain
can the burnt trees still blossom
can this shattered season still change
will this sacrificed year ever end
caught between hell and under
fire on one side
bullets on the other
my father’s voice
coming through with static noise
is a chilling reminder
of the shortest conversations
during a different war
in a small phone booth
my selfless mother
I understand why you stay
I respect your decision
I envy your strength
and your kindness in crisis
I wish I had your courage
but here I am
drowning in worry
I come up for breaths
every now and then
before the heaviness of my thoughts
pulls me under


No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.