Writer Poem by Hadil Diaf

Writer



I will make of my skin a paper,
and with a knife I'll cut a vein,
so that with my own blood I'll write,
all where I've ever been
and immortalize my soul that's dying
and all the shouts I've never screamed

Writer
Monday, June 20, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: writing
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Hadil Diaf

Hadil Diaf

Tizi Ouzou, Algeria
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