Depression Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

You tell me what life is
Then I’ll decide, “Shall I live? ”
Is it just crawling or walking and eating like a worm?
Is it defined as sitting in the dark, watching light and the cloud?
(Bats do so and the owls...)
Or is it being moth flying into flame, burn and die?
Is it gaining power to forgive and forget?
Is it love, being bridge for others to cross?
(As I saw the old man carrying partner; old woman with stick...)

What is it?
Is it Khmer’s cleansing; Rwandan?
Is it the Abraham’s buying land, which ended in David’s bloodshed?
(Capital Sarah’s gains in Egypt,)

I listened to a mother letting son’s-murderer hug her; cry.
I have heard a Tutsi singing song “Hey Hutu come to me let’s be one.”
I have seen Assyrians; appealing “It’s our land, yours and mine.”
I have lived in Andes where woman dances with White-Man; in mask.
I live in Canada; see the life, First Nations'.
And we know Jews-Arabs talk of hate and revenge, millenniums.

You tell me what life is
I will think “Is it worth a living? Shall I live? ”
If you say “Warlord-like shed blood; Kremlin and White-House” I’ll be gone.

Yes of course I am a senior; as defined.
But I am exception; not depressed for own-self.
I am ashamed of mankind.

You prove I am wrong; I will live.
(If not bye, soon or late)

I am alive for search-sake
Wall’s close; I can see all around.
The world is a shithole; all the same.
Mexico, Palestine
And elsewhere
Great Wall in China...