Turkeys Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Turkeys

I have seen both turkeys
one as bird, one neighbour
I, therefore must know well.

But do I?

The bird is example
colours-change is its game
"Don't trust, " as it says.

But neighbour
history, up and down
descended of Ottomans
who are they, question: "What? "
"Hungry nomads came as wild bunch
the ruthless newcomers from the Central Asia."

But Europe?
and later corruptions?
Turks' father Ataturk, his changes?

I feel sad, almost mad while still
the questions and comment come as rain.

There was bomb
people died among them old and child.

I feel as homeless bird
fly on the injured
and land on the wounded
mourn the dead, regardless
and speak with few of bombers.

Story is long and has reasons;
everyone who was there had a cause.