Details |
Kasra Mojahed Poem
What is that thing that is called love?
Some people believe it is a gift from above
Others say it brings nothing but pain
Maybe it is a one way train
When you take your path
You could never go back again
It may take you to the happiness door
Or maybe make you taste life's sore!
Maybe love is just like the rain
You never know how hard it would be
Or how long it would last
Love could come so fast
I mean love from the first sight
Or it could take so long time
to be meant to be.. to be so right
Love could put you into darkness
And could bring you the brightest light!
Love is like the fire
Such a mysterious desire
But weather it is going to warm your heart
Or burn your home
You can never forsee it from the start
You can never tell
If It is going to lead you to heavens
Or is it going to lead you to hell!
Love could take you from the cold
And make you feel so warm
Love is like a rose
Beautiful but also with thorns that could harm!
Love could be like glass
If you dropp it, it shatters
And never be put completly back together
But love can also be like porceline
Never cracks & stays forever
It is so strange
How could such a small word hold so many contradictories? !
A small word but with so many question marks
It is such a complicated feeling
That confuses any human being!
As for me.. I'm just a young little girl
Trying to know what is love? !
Simply for me
Love is like a white dove
Flying so high
Up.. Up in the baby blue sky
So far for me to reach
But If I only understand it
To the whole world I would teach
Love is so precious
Love is a treasure
Love is not cheap
Love is when you can't fall asleep
For reality is better than dreams
And life is sweeter than it seams
Love comes from the heart
Not the brain
You don't know when it starts
You don't think about it
You just feel it over and over again
Love is not Just the saying of words
But the giving of one self
Love is caring
Love is daring
And most of All
Love is sharing
Love is not to live in fears
Love is not a matter of counting years
But making the years count
Love is
Telling, listening, understanding,
Respecting the truth and never pretending
True love does NOT have a happy ending!
True love does NOT have an ending!
Love.. some say it is blind
But I say
Love gives you a third eye
To make it easy for you to find
Who is worthy? ! !
Copyright © Kasra Mojahed | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Kasra Mojahed Poem
Long ago, when a white man saw his brother's dark face,
He did not accept him because he was from a different race,
How could such a horrible thing be so true?
The scares, the bruises, all black and blue.
Where was the love?
Finally, a man was sent from an angel above,
No more war,
He opened up for us a brand new door.
A door where there was no more violence,
Where we could live everyday in peaceful silence,
A door where we had the right to choose where to sit on a bus,
And not make a fuss.
So, here we are today,
Each year getting more grey,
Do we accept people the way they are?
We still have a while to go, but we are not very far.
Copyright © Kasra Mojahed | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Kasra Mojahed Poem
It was a cold autumn evening
Outside filled with chill
It was dark there too
As the mayor was just killed
The street lamps were off
We felt the lack of light
Life was filled with sorrow
The world black and white
The city was quiet
Noone at the bar
People were exauhsted
By fighting in the war
I could imagine
A life with no prayer
Just couldn't see
A city with no mayor
The land was not left with
A place for the needy
A place for the good
Just not the greedy
The only thing absent
Was a great fighter
This land was like
A cigarette with no lighter
Something was left
A very little hope
Which reminded me
Of a knot in a rope
A very brave hero
With the name of jack
He didn't put a difference
between white and black
People were scared
But he was really steady
What i saw was a girl
Not crying for her teddy
The city was demolished
But he was still fighting
The people all felt that
The cigarette was lighting
A victory would be all
The citizens ever asked
Except the mayor was dead
Wasn't really lasted
When the time came
There was a blast
We all knew
Our hope didn't last
It's time to say RIP
Not only to jack
But to all the soldiers
Who never came back
Copyright © Kasra Mojahed | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Kasra Mojahed Poem
There used to a small boy,
without a mom or dad.
He thought he is going to die,
but wasn't that bad.
When asked about his life,
he wouldn't say a thing.
Just like a bird eager to fly, but without a single wing.
Eventually, reached a day,
when i questioned him.
Then he started telling a story that was very very dim.
He said when he was five,
the Nazi came and slaughtered,
the new born baby of the family which was his father's daughter.
He escaped with his mother,
and forgot that town.
But it was on that day when his dad went down.
The child's mother,
was then used to stealing.
Things like marijuana just for dealing.
This didn't last long,
as his mother was caught guilty.
You can't stop capital punishment as some people are so filthy.
It was when he was nine,
as this little pole boy,
lost all he had, all, even his joy.
When he finished his story,
He saw me about to cry.
I agree, if i was him, I was really about to die.
I thought, then smiled.
When knew he shouldn't be dim,
as my parents and i decided to adopt him.
Copyright © Kasra Mojahed | Year Posted 2015
|