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Fasy Ibrahim Poem
Of which
the moral
he never found
That allegory was she
Sing to a fine tune,
he could never
That ballad was she
Taking pride
In a deaf audience
that sitar,
that shehnai was she
Writ in a language
He knew not
That manuscript was she
She was the North Star,
He a blind, lost traveler
Copyright © Fasy Ibrahim | Year Posted 2015
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Fasy Ibrahim Poem
Where was I?
In my rose garden
Where life blossomed; no more
(December to December
Sowing hope, reaping despair)
My rose garden; dead and dreary
So Long!,
for
I shall water you; nevermore!
Copyright © Fasy Ibrahim | Year Posted 2015
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Fasy Ibrahim Poem
My mind,
a musician;
its own maestro,
and apprentice,
is trying to arrange
into a symphony,
the noise, & chaos
inside me.
Copyright © Fasy Ibrahim | Year Posted 2015
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Fasy Ibrahim Poem
Watching
Loneliness takes shape
Like bean stalks on fire
Twisting turning they reach the skies
And explode
Copyright © Fasy Ibrahim | Year Posted 2015
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