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أحمد مطر



جلـدُ حِـذائي يابِسٌ
بطـنُ حِـذائي ضيّـقٌ
لـونُ حِـذائي قاتِـمْ
أشعُـرُ بي كأنّني ألبَسُ قلبَ الحاكِـمْ
يعلـو صـريرُ كعْبـِهِ
قُلْ غيرَها يا ظالِـمْ
ليسَ لِهـذا الشيءِ قلـبٌ مطلَقـاً
أمّا أنـا.. فليسَ لي جرائـمْ
بأيِّ شِـرعَـةٍ إذَنْ
يُمـدَحُ باسمـي
وَأنَـا أستقبِلُ الشّتائِـمْ ؟

Submitted: Friday, October 11, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 11, 2013

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