Poem: MAMA

As-Salâmu ‘Alaykum wa Raĥmatullâhi wa Barakâtuh

This old poem is for the bleeding and fighting heroes of Palestine, Syria, Iraq, Sudan, Arakan, and ALL the Oppressed whose wounds are only deepening and seeping.

This is for all the blameless young ones with lost childhoods, savagely stolen lives of loved ones, and for every valuable teardrop shed because of robbed freedom only breathing in air of toxic oppression.

This is for every parent imbued with gentle, hurting and persevering sighs.


5 responses to “Poem: MAMA”

  1. ‘It’s the Void left after they’re Gone,
    The Memories shared,
    The What and Who they lived For,
    that makes it Hard to Bare with the fact that they’re Gone..

    Everyone knows they’re leaving someday,
    And yet we struggle every time we face the Death of Another..
    It’s because we see a Long Worse life After them Gone,
    Instead of just a Few days or years until we Follow them or Meet them Again..’

    I could see those meanings in between the lines.

    Peace ❤

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