1948


1948
BY LIMA A-AHMAD
Blindfolded nightmares of opened floodgates and disillusioned fates 

drowned in that spring of 48’

I am drenched 

in regret 

as I try to accept 

that I am no longer home

 that it is I 

who is unknown in this world 

as I roam 

and turn every stone 

seeking my identity

 that may be 

Jenin 

or lost in

 Dir Yassin.

It must only be a  dream

 but I fear what I feel

that it is all too real

as my heart hits the bottom 

overpowered 

by the tides 

buried 

beneath the lies 

and all the whys 

and the sighs

weighed down by the guilt 

of leaving your side in that spring of 48′.

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