
Sweet as a pomegranate Middle Eastern friend,
Proudly introduces me as her green-eyed soulmate.
Scheherazade would say that hue of those eyes,
Might be beginning of a long - lasting romance.
It takes me to the country I was born,
Where officials used to censor words and even colors,
Making streets , buildings and squares look dull,
Because anything but grey , should remain unknown
.
In a foreign land , I am slowly learning how it’s like “to be”,
And not to shy away from the treasure that’s inside me.


Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.