Looting Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Looting

I am child of flood
-displaced, badly harmed
-well-aware; lost on run

Therefore, I feel claims:
- "We go and our items
-will go and be looted…"

I know it and it hurts…

This is what people say
-those caught by the fire
-in BC, or somewhere

And I think very deep…
-of losers and looters
-the buyers and the thieves

Talk with each in own way
-to loser: "What is the difference? "
-mean to say: "…if burned or stolen? "
-to the thieves and looters:
- "How can you torture hurt? "

And I sit by myself
-sorry and sympathised and scared
-that people suffer and I can't help

Then recall our friends
-forgetting, forgotten, care absent
-I question: "Is this life? What the hell! "

Then I think of BC
-how I love to go there
-with, without disaster
-I love its nice nature
-will I go? Can I go?
-will ever?

Sit, drink
-feel idle and useless…