My Wit Calls Out “i Want A Way To Come! ” Poem by Farnood Jahangiri

My wit calls out “I want a way to come! ”
It does demand a way to pierce my heart;
Heart says, “This kingdom wants no heathendom.”

My wit weeps and whines. At last weary and numb,
Attempts to sweeten the bill: his only art.
Heart vows, “This kingdom wants no heathendom.

It is a holy land, indeed quiet-some,
And hinders heartily curse of the smart.”
My wit insists, “I want a way to come,

Enough with your holy emporium;
It’s just psychosis that you impart.”
“This psycho”, heart holds, “wants no heathendom.

Where love resides, wit is not to recumb,
Your sacrilegious curse shall play no part.”
“I want a way, ” persists my wit, “to come.”

The heart pushes out the ignorant bum,
“Go away! “ It hollers out, “From here depart! ”
My wit persists “I want a way to come.”
Heart says “This kingdom wants no heathendom.”