PoetrySad Poems

Dear Abba (A Letter from an IDP)

“Hey, can you sleep?”
A whisper of a husky voice woke me up,
The throat of the speaker
Must have been dry for too long,
And yes I saw a figure in the dark, like the ones you see in your nightmares,
The sound coming from this figure must be from his stomach,
The sound of agony, moulded by pain and played by hunger,
I panicked, and I asked, “Are you here to take my soul?”
I thought he was the Angel of Death
He smiled and handed me a note,
His hands were so tired from the fake promising pleasures of the world.

“Dear Abba,
Yesterday I was in my town,
Today I am in yours,
My family is no more,
Devasted and controlled by my own fears,
Abba, I forgot the defination of taste, they said even animals do select food;
But I don’t. I guess my taste buds were buried with my people in that mass grave,
Abba, next time, don’t search for the definition of trauma, for I am already one.

Dear Abba,
Yesterday life is fair,
Today life stabbed me in my heart.
I bleed black, for I am tired of bleeding red.”

Why not share?
Tags

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Check Also

Close
Back to top button
error: Content is protected !!
Close
Close