Miserliness from people

He is always kind to them.

I am here in a place

Where God does not walk in its streets.

He does not care about

Those who have fallen on the road.

Everything closes its doors

In the faces of orphans.

Those whose pockets are old with patience.

Shadows escape from the windows

With fainting tenderness

But their owners cut off hope.

They lock them in the faces of the hungry.

Ignoring is my means of escape.

I raise forgetfulness near the street trees.

I always failed to say, “Yes”

Brought up “No” in Heaven

And insomnia tasted.

I settled myself on the tea

Of misfortunes.

Slept in cafes

In the terraces of the houses

And whenever woke up

Under my head, I saw letters of betrayal waiting.

Published on April 17th, 2023