To Those Who Did Not Make It Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

To Those Who Did Not Make It



To those who did not make it

“Hey…” said man who lives in freedom
That he sought for his kids, his purpose:
“You are lucky to have died…”
He cried:
“You died and never faced…”
Ran tears down his cheeks:
“How they change … ones for whom…”
He stopped…could not talk:
“You risked life…and worked hard…”
Breathed deep:
“The same ones, same bastards…”
Bit his hand, as repent:
“They hand you to police…”
Took time off:
“As if you …”
A deep sigh:
“Are their worst enemy.”
Then whispered:
“Devil is uprooting…
Damn to the migration…”
Seemed to talk to himself:
“You do it for them and…
They become…”
Was lost and confused
Looked for words.
His son came out of door:
“What is wrong, why came out? ”
And shouted:
“Go back in…”
Father, lost. Looked at son
Could not talk:
“What to say? ”
Heard him air:
“Where is death? ”
He walked home like a dog
Tucked his tail between legs:
“Has no shame! ”
The old man did not know
He was kept not for care
But fear of the law…
It forces not leaving old parents on the road.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: people
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