Peach Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Peach

For something went to Yonge,
Worked, broken Afghan,
Bent, folded, his hair white.

Have seen him many years,
We are like brothers…

Employed was with a
Government's Division.

Leader was Zahir Shah
US saw him as: "Pawn! "

His land was, in old days
A piece of large Iran
But cut by the swords of
Russia and Britain…

After years and by force
Both sides of that snake
Enforced as the border
Gave in, then accepted.

Two flags and anthems
Two crowns, two leaders!

My friend knew not,
And neither cared about
Washington, nor Moscow.

His fruits used to be
Ripe, colourful, sweet
As if hive of honey…

Most of us had to leave
Due to fights of devils!

Having lost simple life
He sells the fruits now,
All tasteless and green,
I dislike his sold peach!