I write from the heart a poem
Not of gallant knights on noble steeds
And shining armor
Nor of good karma
Nor of kissing under the moon light
Nor of a village beu
Nor of Turkish delights
Nor of landscapes covered in oriental splendor
Nor of even cupid s effect
A poem of the castaways
A poem of the minorities
A poem of the voiceless
A poem of the deceived
A poem of my people
A poem which heaves and sighs
A poem devoid of happy ever endings
A poem of the outmost suffering of a ghetto soul
A poem which mirrors the gray patches
In lady life s black and white dress
A poem of the cursed
A poem of the homeless
A poem of that young boy who is
Begging on the streets
A poem of that blind lady you passed on your
Way home
A poem of that mini skirted teen in the shabeen
A lamentation of that avid seeker of enlightenment
A poem which knows not borders and coasts
A poem which soars with the nightingales
And vampire bats
A poem of the unknown hero and the forgotten heroine
enjoyed it