My Hut And Your Palace Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

My Hut And Your Palace



My hut and your palace

Hey wealthy,
powerful; as you think
you live in your palace, I in hut
I know that as always, you are wrong
I am happy, so very, very with every knife
that I use to peel, cut.

Either leak or take, wash…

But I see cockroaches in party for smell, possibly
some remains…

What is none to me and my world is very much
to them who…

In my hut I listen, read and learn…celebrate…

One of them radio and news…CBC:
“Some of the Syrian refugees in Lebanon
said no and thank you, and Merci beaucoup;
then ‘sorry’ to mission,
Canada’s.
they said that nothing is better than their own home,
their warm and peaceful home
full of hope…
they said and begged us to
take our war; give us peace
want nothing
just leave us, leave and go.”

In my hut news is far, too far from yours
I see them as they are…true and all natural.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: truth
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