MOHAMMAD SKATI Poems

My mom used to make A few adhoudhas everyday, When I was a little kid She used to make one in the morning, One at noon
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Pretty words which are untold In any age, Pretty thoughts which are hidden In any books, Pretty eyes which are
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I see a pretty world In a pretty grain of sand Where I start my trip into The inner world of that great World of wonders happily and
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Those poor kids, poor women, poor men, and The rest of poor forgotten animals Die out of lack of foods, Death is a big address to everyone, In 2014 there are still pretty
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