Art by Nadine Badran
My father walks the woods
And I was plucked from my nest
And thrown into this cement, living advertisement.
I grasped at what I could
To stay above the masses,
The hollow moving city streets,
Growing, spewing, bustling,
With white canvas faces
That have yet to be painted on,
Have yet to gain something to prove.
I found longing,
My heart, longing for something more,
But I could not find it.
I had lost my place
And was handed something sparse to chew on,
A mass produced, spewed out artifact
That told me what I should want and
What I needed.
Love or let go,
Feel or want,
The monster is continuously pushing it down my throat,
But I can’t, I can’t swallow
For I only crave what I have already eaten.
I was told who my father was
Though I knew his face
The day I came out of the womb.
If he is mine and he will save me,
Then why not my brother,
They say they remember,
When they are hopelessly forgotten
By men with soft hands
And silver wrist watches.
This is no controversy
Only a gracious need
That is severed by holy walls
That rise to the heavens,
Covered in ink and blood
From the men who stood at its base
Trying to understand its principles,
Trying to codify love,
To enslave love,
To set rules to love,
The wild bird who flew across,
Who flew to my brother,
Whose father I have known since birth.