I see the faces of the people that pass by
their faces are white, and grey
the color of the earth on a snowy day.
They have blankets that they cant see,
covering their hearts, preventing them
from being free.
They remind me of the evergreens, drooping from
the weight.
The snow pilling on crushing, suffocating.
I love to shake them, free them of this burden.
Just like people, its impossible to free them all
but I have two hands, two lips and a toungue
I may not free them all, but maybe I can free some.
Asalamu aliakum wa rahmat Allah wa barakatoo,
ReplyDelete*aaaaah, it's finally working! I see your blog now right, mashaAllah*. Anyways I really loved this poem. It's beautiful.
By the way, the beginning of it reminds me of like the shortest English poem ever. This is it:
In a Station of the Metro (by Ezra Pound, a poet who propelled the Imagist movement)
THE apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
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Hey, I'm an english literature student :P And I loved your poem ;)