An Objection Poem by Lubna Ghanem

I object to the rising sun
To its burning beam
For once it sets, all regrets
Gather to haunt my dream.
I object to the flying bird
Whose chirping wakes me up
For I have clutched to its tunes
And now it's bound to stop.
I object to the blooming buds
That spread their mystical aroma
For I am surrounded by withering stems
In this winter coma.
I object to the innocent laughter
The essence of an infant's soul
For a child has grown to be
a man who's ready to brawl.
I object to the happy past
That made me shrug at fear
Now I lead the ship of love
But no wheels left to steer.
I object to the dream I fulfilled
I worked, my blood was mixed with sweat
I regret that I achieved
What once was my purpose bet.
I object to being bitter
Due to my aching heart
I object because I am free
to value my happy start.

Lubna Ghanem