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Scars Left Behind
It is hard not to trace back
All those memories
Which you kept behind you
While you were dreaming in your trip.
Those long moments when you grieved
Those short moments when you breath’d.
From here I can hear some voices of your trip
From there there were no choices in your grip.
Just listen to those immense fragile noises:
When you kept crying,
Laughing, trying and maybe dying
Perhaps I was you— when you were lying
To your thinghood...!
Womanhood is like Robin Hood—
It is always chased in the wood.
Many trees are cut off without roots,
And shall never give birth to the last roots.
When the sun goes down
I pretend to be sad,
So that my night dreams
Are filled of stars instead.
When the moon goes up
I play the role of the dead—
When the moon goes up
I close my eyes and go to bed
When the moon goes up
I beat my heart and feel so sad
Is there any way to see the moon smile without dread?
Yasser Rhimi
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