Covered With Disease Poem by Jean Harold

In this city where everyone goes to sleep
very late
I write another poem
This time I don't know what or who
I am writing for
In this city where everyone moves fast but
complain when it gets too fast
I place all my bet along with hopes
and things I thought I knew
in which I say 'Aamiin' every
now and then
In this city where west meets east
I grab my pen and put my music on
It is time to get swallowed
So tell me one more time about your
plan to conquer the world,
the spring,
the beautifully cruel outbreaks of life,
your without-ending book,
the fool that acts like an academic,
the song you told me I don't need to sing,
your distantly guarded point of view,
the beach and dim lights you love,
your favorite food your mother cooks for you,
and your fears
Tell me all about them
For life is disorganized and full of mysteries
And souls are covered with disease
Shall we continue to close our eyes and dance?