Plum Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Plum

Feel as if am plum,
Not those of William,
All eaten, one by one.

Growing on the tree,
Not ripen, not green,
Cruelly, I was picked.

In hurry took a bite,
Threw me on the ground.

I was not as he thought,
In me found bitter side.

Now, fallen, half rotten,
On these lands, far away,
Live, breathe as a waste.

No one knows of our way,
My culture, ancestors,
And way of my parents.

The fetus in my womb,
Or the pit, or stone,
Is to be still born.

Till the time in grave
Search for Rumi, Hafez.

I miss old trainers
The true devoted,
From bad, injustice.

Am thirsty for braves
Like Cyrus, the great,
To fight for freedom.

To make this life better
Spread love and care,
To be column, shelter,
With honey, milk, bread.