Black Magic
Black magic
She sat erect,
On her pink chaise longue;
The mixture of girlish
PINK
With the classical touch
Reflects her unique
Deep and funny
Character and taste,
Tears were dropping
Like rain from her smart,
Daring, but Innocent eyes,
A middle aged woman
Who did not kill the child
Inside;
Didn't I say
The mixture is unique
Just like her life;
The tough experiences
Could not smear the smile,
Honest words were pouring
From her trembling lips
Clouding her pinkish childish
Cheeks with horror.
Malice, creeping
Hands of his devils
Invaded my domain;
Were Pressing on my
ovaries, and the womb;
My very private parts,
Trying but in vain
To push me to do wrong;
To go astray.
He Said he is a Muslim,
But he is one
Of Satan's slaves.
No divine religion
In roots - apart from
Men's sick interpretation-
Accepts hurting people,
Animals or plants;
When people kill,
molest or abuse
Prison or starve
Innocent Children
Or adults,
[...] Read more
poem by Nadia Abduljabbar
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