Colander
I feel like:
Colander
A Rooneh
An Abkesh
Samakhpaloon
Similar; almost same
Varied use, varied names.
A body full of holes of bullet
Love and care for others
Holding up, and let go
Feeling a hunting dog
An orphan, missing mom
Broken, the father, mistaken.
I am a colander
Full of holes of bullets.
Heart is gone, salt on wound,
The remains is a pain; that is all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem