Few of my million daily thoughts, stories, and poems survive the battles in my head and make it to this blog.
Help me give them a louder voice.
(All poems are written by me, you can call me Zee)
Her name was difficult
From a land he’s never seen
And her face was delicate
Unlike anything on T.V. screens
But her story was not a movie
It’s one that have never been told
And she keeps quiet
Hoping the story will get old
And no other will be created
With such cruelty and pain
Still he wonders how to pronounce her name
Poet, making sense of war, humanity, love and greed. Trying to find the magic in ordinary things.
I am Zee