I am a stranger; a hopeless ranger

To the tears of the children’s crying

Because I seldom have power to keep them out of danger

I am a stranger; an artificial


I can not be a mothers chest

I can not be a fathers word

I can not be a lovers touch

If you don’t allow me to rub your tears

I can not be anything but a helpless hand

I am a stranger; a metaphorical hypocrite

To the catastrophes of my nation,

Like sound of a violin with missing strings

An owl with a broken wing

That can not hoo hoo at night because of the pain , but the birds sing it will be okay

I speak the truth when no lie will make a sound

I speak the truth when my parents are around

I was raised to be honest with myself

But I started losing count

I lie to myself to believe the world is fair

But there’s a thousand of innocent deads out there

If I were to live with more than one life I would integrate it to the souls up there

I can not defend my self because

I am a stranger; to myself

To myself I can’t justify the amount of lies

To myself I can’t explain the rivers of cries

I’m in a dark cell, staring at the owl that has no sound

Staring at the moon with the clouds behind

Painting a canvas in my virgin mind

I am a stranger; to the box I’m in

The tangled angles are the sharp edges I live within

Four walls, unpainted , color don’t bind anymore

Colors are blind .

My country is the superficiality of an experiment

Where the hypothesis is no where to be proven

The aim is just another failed statistic

And the conclusion can’t be written

The agony to arrange the missing dots is louder than a baby bitten

I am a stranger; an ignorant dot,

To the trees at my front yard

That provide me breath

And shelter from the sunny days

I am a shame to the nature

I am a stranger .

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