Find Me Way To The Top Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Find me way to the top

Don’t ever call my name

I’m tired
I’m tired
I’m tired

Of being in this world
Of killers and terror
Of the books of prose
And verses as sonnets
History, and science

They are piles of the shit.

Find me way to the top
To climb, fall…drop
Like the shit, of eagle
Directly to ground
To hit land, splash! ! !

Take my name and delete
Off being on this list

I’m tired
I’m tired
I’m tired

I’m tired of nonsense
Of people who make sense
In their minds, in brains
That are shit, piles of shit.

I’m tired
I’m tired
I’m tired

Tired of, the mass of hypocrites
Parliaments, and by-laws, and the laws,
Kremlin’s, and London’s, and White House.