Plaster On The Wall Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Plaster on the wall

There are times that I think I am nothing plaster on the wall, bright white and…
Neither can be used as chalk to write with nor as a board to be written on
In such times I hate me; that is all.

This is because I am a prism, a magnifier with focal points, a telescope; microspore
And in times all in one…I am laser…penetrate…cure the heart
For angiography, I am right material.

But no…I am plaster on the wall
Unable to change, grab a hand, walk
In such times I hate me; that is all.

I live in Toronto, multi-cultural
I have travelled a lot, multi-lingual
I have studied cultures, feel is all
But I am nothing but a wall
Useless to write with useless to be written on
In such times I hate me; that is all.

He
A graduate of Montreal
Wished to marry so went to Iran
He was not alone; problems plural
“No” was his reply.

Broken, he went to his field
Chemistry
“What is glass? ” he asked, tried to find out
“It will solve my problem, money is what they want.”
Made and used and now…
He is an addict thief
That is his final.

What can I do but…?
In such times I hate me; that is all.