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Fizza Bukhari Poem
A Nation That Failed Its Daughters
Teach girls to cover.
Teach girls to hide.
Teach girls to shrink
while predators stride.
Lock every door.
Bolt every gate.
Still mothers whisper,
"Don't come home late."
A child learns danger
before she learns trust.
A woman learns fear
because she must.
The guilty sleep.
The wounded weep.
The silence grows
so dark, so deep.
And every headline
asks what she wore,
while evil walks
straight through the door.
Not a monster.
Not a beast.
Just filthy men
the courts released.
A stain on faith.
A stain on law.
A stain on every
silent jaw.
How many children?
How many cries?
How many graves
before truth arrives?
A nation that fears
for its daughters at night
has failed long before
it claims to be right.
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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Fizza Bukhari Poem
I carry weight no one can see,
A heavy load inside of me.
No hands to hold, no voice to share,
Just silent screams and endless care.
I built these chains with my own hands,
I walked alone through shifting sands.
The world expects, it takes, it steals,
But never stops to know what heals.
I bear the storm, I fight, I fall,
I stand again, despite it all.
The burden's mine, my cross, my flame,
I am the spark that fuels my pain.
~Fizza Bukhari
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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Fizza Bukhari Poem
Scared, Yet Unbroken
Scared I'll be the burden that they name,
Scared my laugh will call them to complain;
Scared they'll put my heart aside as blame,
Label me "unwanted" in their frame.
Scared my life will slip to average size,
Scared to dim beneath another's eyes;
Scared to marry only to economize,
Scared my worth will fold into disguise.
Scared to mother in a life of small designs,
Scared our days will tally like thin lines;
Scared the future's gate with quiet signs
Will close on dreams and file them under "fine."
But listen, fear is not my final song,
I am more fierce than what they think is wrong;
I will shape my name, I will stand my strong,
I will claim a place where I belong.
Not just a woman boxed to fit their plan
not merely measured by a nameless man;
I am a storm and I am also land:
owned by no one, steady where I stand.
So keep your judgments I will keep my flame;
turn your "burden" shouting into my name.
I will not vanish; I will not be tame
I will live loud, exact, and boldly claim.
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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Fizza Bukhari Poem
Silk Smiles, Silent Knives
I gave my time, I gave my name,
I hid the cracks, I took the blame.
I stoked their fires, I kept the light,
I bled my nights to feed their fight.
They smiled in silk, they smiled in lies,
They painted truths with poisoned dyes.
Their colours bled; their masks unrolled,
They bought my trust and sold my soul.
I kept my pace, I kept my place,
I stood the long, unpaid embrace.
They learned my steps, they learned my track,
Then found my back and drove the jack.
The blade was theirs, I never knew,
The hand I trusted cut me through.
~Fizza Bukhari
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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Fizza Bukhari Poem
Crown of Shadows
I never longed for shadow’s crown,
But you kept trying to strike me down.
You played me false, you played me sly,
Now watch me strike and hear you cry.
You lit the spark, I fed the flame,
You wrote the rules, I’ll change the game.
You drew the blade, I wore the scar,
Now watch me rise for who you are.
I am the queen of night’s domain,
Born from betrayal, forged in pain.
The chains are gone, the mask is mine,
I walk the dark, my grand design.
You wanted war, I’ll give you more,
A thousand storms outside your door.
You called me villain, wrote that part,
But I’m the queen with a burning heart.
So, hear my vow, it’s carved in stone,
I’ll claim the throne you thought your own.
The crown is twisted, sharp, and true,
The villain lives, because of you.
— Fizza Bukhari
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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Fizza Bukhari Poem
Sky of Hell
I look at the sky, eyes burning, wide,
Praying for mercy, praying for guide.
But the clouds spit fire, the winds conspire,
The weak fall silent, the vile climb higher.
The rich grow teeth, the poor bleed bone,
The honest scream, but scream alone.
I call to God, voice cracked, undone,
He answers in silence, or maybe in fun.
Does He not care? Or does He see,
How long we dance in the devil’s spree?
The crooked take crowns, the rightful kneel,
The world a blade with a poisoned steel.
I curse the sky, spit words of flame,
Yet something whispers, it’s part of the game.
A test, a trial, a cruel, dark hand,
To see how long we’ll bleed in this land.
But even as doubt claws at my mind,
Some quiet hope still stays behind.
For though His silence cuts me deep,
I trust His justice does not sleep.
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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Fizza Bukhari Poem
She looked alive, her eyes would gleam
But buried deep was every dream
A thousand nights, no one could hear,
Her pain would bleed through every seam
They saw her smile and called her strong,
But never knew her silent theme
They broke her soul behind closed doors,
Then left her floating in a stream
No bruises shown, no shattered glass,
Just quiet wars beneath the beam
The world moved on, her voice stayed trapped,
Inside her ribs, the deadly scheme
Silent Scream
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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Fizza Bukhari Poem
Hope
Some days I pray they'll say my name,
Remember fire, remember fame.
A soul that tried, a heart that bled
A spark that lived where others fled.
Some days I wish to reach the end,
No trace of me for time to bend.
Just fade like wind, dissolve like air,
No weight to hold, no cross to bear.
Between the two I stand and sway,
A ghost of night, a breath of day.
Hope pulls me close, then lets me fall
To be remembered...or not at all.
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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Fizza Bukhari Poem
The glass is not a door to peace,
It only teaches noise to cease;
It dims the clocks inside my chest,
Yet leaves the deeper wounds unrest.
The whiskey does not kill the ache,
It teaches pain a softer shape;
The grief remains beneath the skin,
But speaks in whispers, not a din.
A burning river, amber bright,
Flows through the caverns of the night;
The world grows distant, slow, and wide,
Like stars dissolved in a darker tide.
I do not drink to learn to fly,
The bottle never lifts the sky;
It bends the map, distorts the land,
And puts new shadows in my hand.
For every ghost I try to drown,
Returns adorned with golden crowns;
The liquor grants them velvet tongues,
And lets them sing through aging lungs.
The room becomes a drifting sea,
Where memory unbuttons me;
Old loves emerge from salted deep,
The wounds I buried lose their sleep.
And in that haze I sometimes find
The hidden gears behind the mind;
How every joy and every scar
Were always nearer than they are.
But morning comes with honest eyes,
And strips the gilding from the lies;
The bottle never held the key,
It only lent the dark to me.
So here's the truth the glasses hide:
No ocean waits on the other side;
The drink's a mirror, cracked and thin,
Reflecting what was locked within.
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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Fizza Bukhari Poem
My soul feels shattered
Dreams lie all scattered
A heart once beating with fire,
Now cold and battered
The sky once painted with blue,
Is torn and tattered
Yet in each fragment of pain,
A hope is gathered
For even dust of despair,
Can bloom when weathered
Copyright © Fizza Bukhari | Year Posted 2026
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