Halt Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Halt

Bag in hand, once again,
See myself walking there.

In bazaar, Kandahar
Plenty are poor shops,
Among them many guns.

Look at the rich stocks,
The new, old, short, long,
Pistols and machineguns,
Also, sell hatchets, knives!

Shocked, I am surprised,
Feel jitter in eyeballs:
"Being so in our time? "

A Pashtu, Hazara,
And driver, myself,
Hurry up with dread!

But today, after years,
Feel as if have returned,
Same sellers, teenagers!

Dear friends at the beach,
Those who talk and preach,
Speaking soft, sweet,
Close eyes, framing,
Warmonger in painting,
With bullets, thundering!

Is time to null, stop,
The evil companies!

Withdraw your savings!
Please halt supporting!

Being part and working
With the ones like Boeing,
Winchester and Lockheed,
Means killing, murdering!