Atallah
His name was “God Given”
The same as his father’s, his last name.
Syrians, was Arab Christian; he worked for Michelin.
Partner and friend he was our accountant.
Too cautious, strange with the games
“Never risk, I am no part.”
He left us.
Years went by and no word
Out of sight, out of mind
Now ISIS, how can I?
Ignore him…?
I see him
A poor
Man.
Open heart can be gift
Of parents of God or, the nature?
Whatever
I like all regardless of their faiths
No culture, no passport, politics or nation.
My joy comes of their joys
Their pains kill,
Sure it hurts.
Atallah,
Wish you best.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem