Documents Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Documents

We chatted
My friend, Red-skin.

He flamed with my words:
“Years here and still my papers...”

“By who, why? ”
Asked me he; tobacco in smoke.

“Officials! ” my voice low, I replied.
“Who are they? ” with anger he went on.

“The looting murderers and bastards? ”
He shouted soldier-like.

Looked rooster observing his hen raped.

“They enter others’ house with their guns
Take the keys and set laws or bylaws.”

An inhale and then talked:
“We’re savage for asking for our rights.”
“And you are terrorists, criminals.”
“And others, are either domestic, or are wild.”
“Regardless…animals.”

He spoke like drunk
(Or person on drugs)

“I am not what you think…”
He had read depth of mine.

“I too am, a deprived.”
He stopped, when refreshed:
“They have reached end of line,
They must learn, we teach them with our love…
If not…gun…sun had set; now is dawn.”