Babak - Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
I cry; feel ashamed.
You cruel, brutal
Stop it; it’s enough
It’s enough; enough-enough
Peace loving; preserver?
Your hell deep; full of gifts
Hearts and lungs; Cairo’s Well
Melting lead coming down
Sure; you sail on the blood
You carry picks, shovels
(Make tears; waves on waves)
Open eye; hear, see
If your guns let-permit
But tear; plains are waterless
Your machines killed, murdered; days and nights
Hear moms, holding child; dreaded days and nights
Hear sound of the kids, for bread days and night
Brutal; their water turned blood
You muddied every life
See people folded, bent
Your crimes on their backs.
Turk author said it right:
“Oppressed lambs become wolves.”
Old you and tied to bed, grave
They’ll revenge of your child; to you howls
Everyone interprets: “Avenge” or “Hand of God”.
But not I; I warn you to wake up.
Look at me wear robe; white
Don’t force me to pick gun.
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