Conscience Poem by nadia abduljabbar
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
Sunday, April 14, 2013
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4/25/2024 9:19:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
