Member-only story
Motherland of Mine
بسم الله
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A Poem
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If I told you of my heartbreak,
Would you recognise it as your own?
Do you harbour it in your chest,
Keeping it afloat on waves of hope,
That are not bordered by occupiers,
In the same way I do?
If I explained away the path of my pain,
Would you feel your chest pinch in agony, too?
People say home is a feeling, not a place.
But those same people usually have the comfort of a roof over their heads.
And I?
I have a sky that holds up the planes of bombs,
As they determine the next best place to target.
I’m still trying to find home,
In all the many places I’ve lived in since.
Lived and tried not to die in.
I’ve been displaced so many times,
I lost count somewhere between 1948 and now.
That’s a lot of years, I know.
