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)
A memory that’s not yet old
Her, laying on my dorm room bed
Fever filling her head
Gun shots sounding closer and closer
Baghdad, what have we done?
I kiss her forehead, cover her with my blankets
Sister, what have we done?
I told her I have to step outside
But she couldn’t hear me
The small glass window was near me
And it was threatening to break
And everyone was screaming
I wished I’d been dreaming
But I thought I had to say my goodbyes
Sister we’ve come so far
This truth had to be told
Before our story got too old
And everyone forgot we existed