Poetry

When I was a child…

Anfa Arsh

The storms would come

the sun won’t shine

the clouds would hound

the stories would undermine.

The shattered souls

would cry through crime

the meaningless tears

would no more shine.

The broken pieces

would spread like slime

and non-mendable trust

shall break in line.

The power of love

would no more whine

the mountains would echo

the waves would combine

The life would be dusted

and nothing would be mine.

All of this,

I didn’t know

Would ever happen,

When I was a child…

-Arsh

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