Don't ask me how I am Don't ask how I'm doing Don't bother asking how I feel I am raw with emotion It hurts too much, it hurts to feel, to think Asking is like picking at my wounds Making blood flow like my tears I am one soul living two lives Feeling for two, hurting for two Going mad.
My city, You have filled my heart with longing for the future, and tears of sadness in my eyes. Goodbye my city, Goodbye earthen walls, In you I found the joys of belonging. I still remember the damp smell of your alleys and And the sound of the black crows. The shadows of your twilights have fallen on my future, And your sunrises are in my heart. Goodbye my city, Goodbye my childhood. Armineh Amirian Zohrabian 1972 Arak, Iran.
Alone, isolated, forsaken. Miserable. Burdened with duty, Defeated utterly. Powerless. Guilty. Guilty of feeling self-importance. Guilty for feeling this way, Surely, compared with the multitudes I have the least suffering. What's more, I am conscious of their misery. I listen, I read and see The tragedies that befall humanity, The devastation of wars, The loss of thousands of lives Loss of country and home The brutalities inflicted on innocent people. I see the insatiable greed of dictators That will not be satisfied Even by the blood of children and the young. I witness the poisoned minds of zealots Fed by their false prophets Out to destroy lives, values and democracy. And I am one of the multitudes That feel this pain. I'm tormented I can’t be happy with my blessings, My fortuitous ordinary life. Because I am simply human.
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