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Isma Humam Poem
Lost myself looking around for the quality people love,
Perfection, it is called harder to find the Blue eyes ground dove.
Standing here,feeling lost seems like there is nothing I could do,
After all, it is I, who dragged myself too hard to become grey and blue.
I ,who grew you a flower that can't be bloomed,in a dream that can't come true.
I danced in the rain, though the tears of my loss were in vain, under skies of blue.
Late was I to know the truth, the world forever has been a liar so smooth.
The caliber I sought, a distant thought, beyond my grasps stare,
The perfection I pursued, forever eluded leaving me in despair.
Alas! this word tattered my beautiful soul,
Lastly, I stand alone with nothing but my inner turmoil and my shattered soul...........to console.
Copyright © Isma Humam | Year Posted 2024
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Details |
Isma Humam Poem
All the life, hearing cluttering of weapons is rough,
Being a single daughter is tough.
Last I remember, you held me when I was six,
I was injured and you were trying to fix.
Mama died saving me, I needed immediate attention,
But your one stare and even at that tender age, I was an addition to your tension.
I felt like that day not only my mother but also my father was cremated,
For nothing remained the same after that day - ill fated.
Years passed, the distance between us grew,
Had it been ten years ago, it would have been new.
You don't answer my calls anymore,
My ears dried waiting to be called just once more.
Your missions now last for days , weeks or even months.
I waited, waited for you to get over your grief and say "Mi amore, papa missed his little girl"
Alas! I grew up, not being treated like a pearl.
With me now lying in my pool of blood,
You might be holding me close to your chest and crying a flood.
But..... You got late, Dad
There was no other option 'your little princess' had.
Loved you so much Dad, that neither words can express nor you can guess.
Copyright © Isma Humam | Year Posted 2024
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