CAR FARE
Screaming for safety, I wonder
Who is on which rooftop?
Bored and picking off dogs at a refuse pile.
But no, I have never been to Najaf.
Whomever I fear has grown since,
And is no longer the teenage boy on a building in a desert.
To whom do I beg for life?
Craven as a child who knows
The fear of death.
Where will it end,
Me still alive and in possibility,
Will the fell feeling dispel itself
To make way for an unbegrudged bliss?
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