نظرتُ في عينيها
تبدو وكأنـَّها ثـُقِـلـَـتْ ….همومًا
سوادُ الليل ِ يختزلُ تلكَ العينين
وكأنها تحكي أيّامًا مضَتْ،
عبّرَتْ عن ماضي كيانِـهـا بتلكَ …النظرةِ
و بدا الأمرُ وكأنها
Have you ever thought that maybe all of us, excluding no one that is, are behind castle walls? That every each one of us are afraid that no one will hold our hands when we call for help and that is simply because they can’t hear us?
Sometimes we just need assurance.
An ear that would listen rather than hear.
A hand that would catch rather than be extended.
Feet that would walk rather than just stand.
The castle walls are just so thick they need strong hands that are determined to break them.
To see through them and beyond them.
Everyone thinks that I have it all
but it’s so empty living behind these castle walls
these castle walls
If I should tumble if I should fall
would any one hear me screaming behind these castle walls
there’s no-one here at all, behind these castle walls
nobody knows i’m all alone
living in this castle made of stone
they say that money is freedom but i feel trapped inside it all
and while i sit so high up on a throne
i wonder how i can feel this low
on top of the world it’s beautiful
but there’s no place to fall
p.s: It is originally a rap song featuring Christina but I only liked her part due because I don’t like rap songs even though I’m pretty sure the lyrics are well written it’s just not my taste.
Past Post is a post I’ve written in my old blog and reposting it from time to time when I don’t have anything to write and until I could gather up my thoughts.
I challenged myself and said give me any picture and I’ll try to write something out of it and my friend Layal told me to check her latest on flickr (Say MashAllah) isn’t she cute <3.
Here goes :
One day I’ll be something..
One day the future will be in between my hands and I’ll fascinate you.
For I am a girl of dreams..
Do you know what I see?
I see myself a strong, promising, and confident lady…
I’ll be flying over the skyscrapers and way over…
and in the crowd of millions I’ll be noticed.
You know why?
Because I have the look of hope..
True I’m just a little girl today but one day…
One day I’ll be something you’ll always refer to as the strong fighter who achieved.
One Day I will be.
I do not own the picture I just own the words. It was found by mere coincidence agreeing to the idea of the post.
I wrote a letter, sealed it and gave it to the wind.
It slipped my fingers, willingly.. I wanted to chase my words.
But I already gave it to the wind.
I watched it as it flew away lightly.
Will someone read it? Will someone read my words?
It flew away .. far, far away.
No turning back now.
It is flying now waiting to be caught, until then it will continue flying.
Meanwhile I sat down and started writing another letter… to the wind.
Before you read:
I wrote this poem a month or so ago at an “American Literary History and Culture” class. While discussing an Emily Dickinson poem, which is actually one of my favorite poets out there. She is too.. what is the word: me? Yes she is somehow me. One friend asks me why do you love her so much? I said: because when I read for her it’s like I’m reading for me. I’ll be talking about her later on. Anyway when I wrote it I left it incomplete and when I came back to it and read it I thought: it ended right where I left it hanging. It doesn’t need an ending. I love it that way. So now I give it a title with the first line. It is a free verse no rhyming scheme of whatsoever. It is a poem of the struggle of the inner self and an the trust of another person. While the inner self wants some assurance of some sort. Enjoy!:
I promise… And what is a promise?
I say… And what is speech?
I give…. And what is a giving hand?
What is all without its true meanings?
Given this, a double edged view, should you now trust?
A question, sincere or not, should you trust me?
Should you give your body, mind, and soul?
Or most importantly give the heart of yours in the hands of mines?
Should you trust that I will handle it gently?
With care. like I handle mines, no manipulations?