#5

You played me
cassettes humming in my
Mother tongue,

In the darkness, our eyes spoke
In million silent ways

I’ve been crying for remorse ever since you invited yourself in

Throw me into Joseph’s well
Let me rinse my sins off
I smell life in the air as I exhale my last breath

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About Samra

Poet and fundraiser for humanitarian causes. Lives in London
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to #5

  1. I absolutely love your poetry’s ability to speak to the soul! Such a pleasure to read 🙂 x

  2. hamdikhalif says:

    I’m loving your diary posts, so raw!

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