I'm Iraq my poem

**محمد الملا محمود** · يوم أمس, 15:55

Another poem was written by me in the same time

Death at the zone of sun

Severe bloodshed and the matter is serious
My Iraq is on the brink of creeping danger
Innocent people could say hi to who answer
And the fate is ominous comes on heads down
As the wind when sweeps the ground
Whispering under the tool of those vulgar
The honest of them is either bagger or burglar
Dark nights and the moon has a dim shadow
And the stars being clinched on high skies
Sending blazes of blasts mixed with fires
Sparkling down and up the mouths of rivers
And the soul of ego is implanted between rips
It could be never washing the salty bodies
And a sparrow might be frightened going abroad
As a migrant who never thought to come back
While its bough shaking and crying
A flake of sorrow welcoming the dawn
And a man in that side going frozen
To those still at north having no desire
But crumbled on cities as blind nation

**محمد الملا محمود** · يوم أمس, 16:03

And this one I wrote in 2018
The sound of walls

Because of my name,
I was jailed
For the same name of mine
For nothing more
I was jailed
Iraq itself is prison
Between four walls and closed door
No business, no friend would welcome
And no sun would shine
No happy sound I would hear
But the sounds of tortured bodies
When the lash comes down
Days ended as nights
after 47 days then said
It is not you
You're not whom we look for
And we write down in our statements
As an honest man, you are free
I was honest before I reached you
Since I was born, yet I am honest
And not you who made me honest

I'm Iraq my poem

I'm Iraq my poem

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