Mousheera Shafik

Rookie (26/7/1987 / heliopolis)

Words… - Poem by Mousheera Shafik

A word..
Differs from one man to another,
It's one man's sword,
And another's plea to bother..

It differs from one soul to another,
He who says it out loud, 'Um free'
Knows it's symptoms,
Consequences,
Duties, and all that he is supposed to be.
But… there is always another face of the coin,
A face that'll perpetually join..
He who gets it all wrong,
He'd think he is out of law,
When ever he likes, rings the gong..
He brags, and wander, and likes to show
Show every where singing that clamorous song,
A song of these enigmatic bohemian words,
And still…
They are words,
And a word..
Differs from one meaning to another…

It differs from one role to another,
He who says it out loud, 'I love you'
Knows it's delight,
Knows that it is the light,
Adorns the day, and worms the cold night.
But… how different can it be,
From one person that you may see,
Is mother's love like a woman's passion?
Is a father's protection like a lover's safety?
It's about saying the word…
But still, the same, same word is no longer the same,
It may be love of life,
It may be love of fame,
Many of many things that one man may love,
But still they are not the same..
Because…
They are words,
And a word..
Differs from one role to another…

It differs from one place to another,
He who say it out loud, 'Um home'
Knows it's bounds,
Feels it's warmth,
May die for it's honor..
But still the question is..
Should it always stand for the birthplace?
Or the feeling of dignity, safety, and grace?
Is it only a land space?
Or it's the source of one man kind's race?
As one man may feel strange among his kin.
And they may commit to him every small and single sin.
And still…
They are some words,
Words that utter so many worlds.
To some, there would be worlds of sins,
And worlds of virtue.
And that thin thread between every word and another,
Will be the eventual disquiet of the human kind..
As a psycho killer feels no guilt,
So.. the word psycho, vindicated the word kill..
And so on,
They are words that we spit out,
We warrant, lie, express and move on…
Words are the social animals tool to feel alive.
And before it's done,
Alive.. is also a word
And it's all about words…,
As a word..
Differs from one man to another,
It's one man's sword,
And another's plea to bother..
But finally,
It makes people know how to live..
To live, All together.


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Poem Edited: Friday, March 11, 2011


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