Mohammad alKurdi

I do not know if you do know,
If that piece of me could
Not flow,
To you to catch yours and
...

Hello you world,
Sometimes you seem to be unfair.
Hello blue sky,
Looking at you make me feel dry.
...

Can ya predict what it is? it
Is black or white
There is nothing to find.
...

Too long it was since they first met
She looked when he gazed then the two
Eyes rested in tha same nest best.
As a lyric had found his tone
...

Walking down the road in nowhere
Knowing not to go, but there
With a view a scene a picture can be seen
And takes the attention while being there
...

Gather you all roses
To give me too different choices.
Which make a cute face
I was looking for for ages.
...

March has approached
Accompanied with its sorrow and pain,
Attached with the rough sickness and dirty rain.
It has a goal to be obtained:
...

To have a place there is my Muse,
To breathe in love, passion, and clues.
Looking through that window,
Seeing those grand green trees,
...

I left my favorite plant at home.
It needs some water,
It needs some care.
It’s dying now,
...

I've got a vision,
That I'd like to share—
A feeling of how happy is happy
And how beauty is fair:
...

SEASON of rain, with sorrows and pain,
A cloud up in the sky shouts, weeps, and wants to cry—
It is a gift of heaven
A work with perfection;
...

Through the dark road she walks,
Where there is no hope, no move, no talks,
Creates the peace of silence,
The sound of calmness.
...

A picture.
A texture.
A mixture.
It gives pleasure.
...

Water.
A dropp of water
Springs up high to the sky
Showing man’s smile behind a sigh.
...

Why is a sweet so sweet
While I cannot taste it.
Why can others do it
While I cannot have it;
...

I cut my finger by a knife.
It bled and bled;
The blood was dark red.
...

One…
Two…
Three…
A fourth step will make me free.
...

Down the river walking I was.
After seeing me, she did a pause.
Looking for a shelter- as she was astray—
She ran to me with no delay,
...

It’s but a season
Comes and goes with no specific reason.
That’s the so called “life, ” which holds you tight,
Almost dying with no knife.
...

Time passes by uselessly,
To make itself safe, away from cruelty.
Words are uttered jumbled mumbled
As the clock tick tacks, but no increasing number.
...