Treasure Island

nadia abduljabbar

(25/5/1957 / Makkah)

Conscience


Every time I give,
I get instead
Of a hug,
Or a kiss,
A slap on the face,
A hit on the head,
A stab in the back,
Thus to live,
I turn my back
To the living
Like a defeated king.
Why is this?
Because the human conscience
Is dead.


London,

11March,2002

(Women with Wings)

Published in poemhunter on

15 April,2013

Submitted: Sunday, April 14, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, April 16, 2013

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