This is society's fist in the air
I clear the table, the argument's new
But the stench of old values still make noses flair
Droplets of anger stream down our faces
Racing past our features scrunched by fear
We hold our walls together like churches and crosses
Trying to keep out everything that's real
Birthmarks left scars on our backs that survived the ages
But all complexions facing the future are soothed
Thus mixing a life of the past and the present
Without providing a blender to render it smooth
Though I have done well balancing so many truths
Applying wisdom of all times to the changes that come
But sometimes I dream with power and youth
That history and destiny could someday be one.
Written by: Niloo Farahzadeh
I wrote this poem late last night. I was inspired by a conversation with a friend.
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