Wasan H. Ibrahim
Success - Poem by Wasan H. Ibrahim
No tear to shed,
I feel so dry,
My soul is numbed,
No birds…no sky.
No wind to blow,
To move my sense,
Yet the blow of failure…. is so harsh and intense.
It happens … with this I smile,
With that I laugh,
How ignorant they of
How much with grief my heart is stuffed.
The gulf of depression pulled me down,
And the face of success does thunder and frown.
I yearn for yesterday on how I was
Tentative, successful and well-known.
I drive my car…
Hope to go nowhere….
Hope to go so far…
Hope to disappear.
I pass by a building which have decayed,
Out of terror and the bombs of hate,
And I remember those who got maimed, and those who died,
In our land of darkness and our years of fright,
And this agony shores me away from my own,
And I have been put aside.
A car wreathed with flowers drives beside me,
Embracing two who one would be,
Followed by a procession of roaring horns,
And the clapping is like the drops of rain;
And all of a sudden comes to my mind
My son's birthday…how do I forget?
I could hardly manage to stop
To buy a cake,
And a candle…I do not forget to take,
To his kindergarten I walk my way;
So happy are the children…so amazed!
To see a strange woman with a sweet glazed,
And their hails surmount and rise;
And I see tomorrow in the oceans of their eyes.
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