Tired
 
 
I am tired of being tired  
from people with fake 
 
smiles and real tears  
falling from my eyes 
I remember the days 
where a long and  
happy life we had 
when we were kids 
God sent us rain 
to grow the seeds 
to bloom flowers  
now, nothing arises
 
hungry and thirsty  
spirit died with a joy
 
we break bone to walk 
 
we cut flesh to breathe 
A bite to recall the 
days of starvation 
a sip to forget the 
bitterness of war 
Kids cannot find 
the moon to sleep 
below the sunlight 
they sleep with fears 
the dawn's witness 
either born while death 
and fire the stars in blaze  
the sun rises toward the ashes 
Hope is not at the 
airport to travel to 
exile, perhaps he's 
burying himself a tomb 
Since the dust filled 
my path to go forward 
or backward years ago 
I am waiting to die before you 
kill me with no noise 
my voice is no longer 
important to be heard 
stab me without sympathy 
 
			
			
The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.