A Will Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

A will

Is more than six decades
Wonder if has remained
Of him, but some bones!

Was young and had returned
To his home, of Europe.

Did not like the people
Neither roads, nor the dirt
And hated government.

His nephew, my friend
Came to me, cried, said:
"My uncle has vanished,
On paper has left will…"

Soft, sweet, like Sadeq,
Finally, killed himself.

Had taken some opium.

"In his will…" I was told:
"…has asked for neat grave,
Clean, nice, and tiled…"

I was kid, around nine,
Labourer in the shop,
But those days to me are
Clear and bright…

That is when I took shape
To read, write, travel
And expand my knowledge.

After years and decades
I feel like being there,
A small, eager child…

Why to be narcissist?
No good is the selfish!
I am same bag of s..t! ! !