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if you give up
and walk away

know this

                        it will never

                                                    be

             ok
Grey white
Gulls

Red chimney
Stack

Every year

Ark Ark
Evening,
The nice and warm wind of June...
it blows in the evening;
And it was spring...
You move my hair...
You move my skin...
You move my dress...
My dress comes alive;
It was spring...
And it is summer...
The two wheels of your childhood are colored...
Your eyes give olive...
Your eyes give olive...
Your eyes giving green olives...
I pick your berries;
The sun wakes up... ☀️
Your leaves wake up... 🌿

عَصر...
بادِ خوب و گرم خرداد...
عصر می وزید؛
و بهار بود...
موهایم را تکان می دهي...
پوستم را تکان می دهي...
پیراهنم را تکان می دهي...
پیراهنم زنده می شود؛
بهار بود...
و دیگر تابستان است...
دو چرخِ کودکي ات رنگی...
نگاهت زیتون مي دهد...
نگاهت زیتون مي دهد...
نگاهت زیتونِ سَبز مي دهد...
توت هایت را مي چینم؛
آفتاب بیدار می شود... ☀️
برگ هایت بیدار می شوند... 🌿
I can decide if I will let go
and enjoy the moment
with the crepe myrtle across the way
and swing in the breeze with the sunflowers
or
if I will pull the shade of fear over my eyes
and attach to my feet the weight of worry.
What is left?
For the only light that shimmers are fragments of memories
Memories…from the candle that fell dim long ago…
The dried wax its tears….
And the smoke? The ghost that haunts me even now…
I see it…the rose that once sat on the table…
That bloomed as if for birds to see and no one else
Forgive me…
For I am man…and as such blind…
Ignorance and shame….
Both of which I know too well
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