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…
Don’t cry This pain is transformation
They cut his chains Without asking They cut his chains Without telling Him
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…
I WAS HERE You scream As their faces wrinkle with shock I WAS A dust in the air A fly on the wall A beautiful scent A flower that grew tall I was here through it all And I have never left Nor will I ever go I am here body and soul For we…
A change in desire Shifted the view And now I no longer fear you Future You are never to be realized Lost between present and past For tomorrow will always turn to present
She found it odd That she could not fly They told her she couldn’t But she didn’t understand why So she jumped from the highest building she could find She knew that her wings would never leave her behind . . Image credit HERE