Oh, Faleeha
How brilliant is your future
I whisper in my ear
And pat my shoulder
Every morning
I open my day with a big lie
I tell myself
Faleeha
leave the news to the promoters of rumors
And the houses being bombed by skilled pilots
They will be rebuilt immediately afterward
Leave Iraqi women to be sold in the Sbaya Bazaar in Mosul
Mothers will give birth to other daughters nine months later
Don’t worry about the man who sells his life for a handful of coins under the sweltering sun
One day he will be able to get a Chinese umbrella  
Don’t worry about your niece whose face now being eaten by skin cancer
She will get through Photoshop a wonderful picture for her profile on Facebook  
Why do you look so long at picture of your friend who is missing from Kuwait war?
He is lucky
He survived the darkness of grave
Oh, Faleeha
Leave the children of Baghdad to wake up to violent explosions
Music is no longer fit for their mornings
Write down the martyrs names on a piece of a paper and place it in your old coat and leave it in the closet
Or send it to the dry cleaners
I’m tired of counting the names of the martyrs and the war never ends
Faleeha
Don’t plan for the future
It is as a close as   a ******’s bullet
Yes,
I open my day with a big
Big
Big lie
But no lie can cover the scary truth