Our Names Poem by Sami Gjoka

Our Names



Our names
Are less known, by each day,
To the towns we’re born
Across devastated lands
Of our countries,
Full of snakes
Full of bushes
Full of thorns.

We are seeds of cobs of corn
Pecked and scattered by the birds
And then taken away
Far from the decaying bins,
By the heavy flood of time,
To some other, opened fields,
Struggling to stay alive.

We fade from the memories
Of our dismembered tribes
Like some illegible names
Due to cracks
And due to craze
Disappearing from the stones
Of some ancient, flattened graves

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