I'm not a poet, girl

My name is Amin. I love writing the truth more than fiction

Me and the girl

She winked at me. Beautiful cunning

So I smiled a crazy smile

And I leave the place. They follow me

where are you going . come back

Do not deserve my eyes poem

I tell her I'm not a poet

You want to hear me

I and you are in contention

You want the bright ring

And I want my homeland antidote

Even the poem when I write it

I say .. is blue eyes

It is the grief of the widows and the elderly

That is the love of a homeland followed by nostalgia

The girl was angry

I finished saying and followed by fear for the children

I'm not a poet, girl

Are simple meanings for people

People abandoned reading

And we are many writers

The girl silenced me and said

Who is your first sweetheart, I said to her

Of course my mother

She said of your second love

I said my country

The girl was surprised and asked me

Who is your third sweetheart?

I told her my writings

And from that day my lover disappeared

Disappeared between dreams and golden bracelets

It is my story. Me and the girl

You think I'm a poet. I'm not a poet, girl

© 2018 tabouche amin