The City

 

 

 

A city is a place to live for people,

It has many roads and tall gates,

Each gate is named after its destination,

Damascus is an old city where mother lived,

They said then that she is Damascus,

They also said that she is the world.

But today, they think the world is different.

That's not true, the world is still mother,

But I think its possible its another city.

Reviews

[Patrick]

Either you're completely insane or else a hidden gem - whichever your writing has a magnetic pull.

[emmajoy]

After two reads of yet another of your poems, it seems that your mother is the heart of your present world, as she should be, of course. Your observation is grand, tall gates and roads certainly lead to places, but more, wherever your mother is, is the destination. You have great insight in thought and word placing.