Aborted Memories

Looking at them carefully Makes me grow sea sick but I try to calm my soul and spirit with songs and hymns Of Love and Freedom gone. The cold streets of the city And the arising fears I see In the faces of my people Cannot but dispel those of mine. Where are the sweet tales told Down to us from father to son ? Where are the woods gathered To withstand the cold weather To make it depart for warmth and sun ? I hope this is enough for division I hope this is enough for admonition Looking at them looking at me now Makes me aimlessly wander and smile What I continue to keep in my heart They did forget and they only come and go and wonder none. Chokri Omri