April Day Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

April Day

In this day of April
The sky is asleep under sheet
Some flakes like wild birds
Hit the sides and linger.

In front are houses
These brick-made boxes
Have windows, I hate them
Looking jails, having cells, so small
I hate them; hate the walls
Any kind
Be mental; physical.

Residents
Two meters between them
Have showcase in passage
For the shoes and the pots
It is hell.
I hate them; hate the hells
Any kind
Be mental; physical.