Disowned Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Disowned

The voices land on me
Like flames on skin
And they burn…

A man talks
Whoever he may be
I heard is Inuit
Is worthy for news
And he talks.

“My father disowned us…”
He mentions and goes on
“Don’t know why…”
Partially is honest
Only in “do not know.”

Children who do talk
Of parents who are far
Either lie or have heard
Of parent nearby…

He or she has made up
Stories to match up
Depart of other one.

Hey poor sons…
Poor daughters
I know this very well.