My Niece Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

My niece

She, to me was friend,
Messenger and sister.

She can be the reason
To my heart, beat faster
And things to, reveal, say.

Had lost her for long since
Forced I was to take leave.

On the run, I always
Kept her and her mother
In my thoughts, and brain
While my tongue was silent.

Now, grown, grandma
She is far different
But, still, kind like then.

She and her siblings
Want to know stories
Of mother who is gone
And no one talks about.

They, do know, partially
That many stories
About her, lie with me.

Today, I, wrote to niece
Of my past: "Were racist
The people in village,
But no-one wants to say."

Prophet's descendants
Always kept top place.

Kept reason to myself,
Then two more places:
"Willingly, I will help
If you, your children
Can use pen, be writer."