Sarajevo Girl

Seven clowns on the trail of destruction.
And a Sarajevo girl who can read my mind,
Was this what I was looking for?
A life in fast-forward; a death in rewind?

We all sing lullabies to the moon,
As our ephemeral reasons to stay awake drown,
What’s so because-poetic to the common man,
Is just another blasphemy to the astute clown

Soon with the liquescent wisdom of gods,
And with saline water our ship shall fill,
Then we’ll have neither another word in our quiver,
Not another drop of blood on our quill

And would the Sarajevo girl selling flowers now,
Then sell umbrellas and harvest hope? ,
Phorcydes wouldn’t help us when we ran out of water,
Don’t expect any rescue if we run out of soap

With heavy hearts and with debts on our back,
We learn to paddle this lone canoe,
Let the electrified river with a penchant for falling,
Take us all safely to where everyone’s due.

Creative Commons License
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Merili said...

I don't know what to say other than thank you from the bottom of my heart.
This is a beautiful, moving poem and a lovely seasons gift.

May your holidays be as bright and beautiful as a mine and may they insipire you to write more and more.

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