In no time I could turn a saint, a sage
And write volumes after volumes on peace and love
Or at least become a great poet, If I
Concur with you all that my home is not my home
No matter how long I have been living there
Now I am nothing, just a thorn in your eye
As I do not give up my land where I was born
Between two rivers in the shade under an olive tree
During five and half decades what I have suffered from
In the hands of my occupier
If I stop telling the world
I could instantly be a peace maker
Now I am just a trouble maker or a funny word terrorist
As I never give up to retake my home
But I believe I am dealer dealing with what is not dark
And walk with a burning candle on my palm
No matter in what situation and in which place
But I request you politely with folded hands
Please, please get out from my house
And take out your boots from my soil
Before I say revenge is not bitter or has it a bad name.
The Funny Word
Did you enjoy the the artible “The Funny Word” from Abdul Wahab on OZOFE.COM? Do you know anyone who could enjoy it as much as you do? If so, don't hesitate to share this post to them and your other beloved ones.
Leave a Reply