When I was a child
I was chided
Speaking English
Using simple vocab
In darker skin tone
Coming from sandy
Sandwiches stuffed
Za3tar and zait

As I grew older
I learned another
Mother tongue
Swiftly in no time
As if in a race
To trace it back
I sang fairuz again

While I lived love
It gave me up for
Doors of curiosity
Cautiously explored
Convenience rained
Winding my winds
In strings of cold silk

Where I picked trees
Poise peeled perfectly
Off the pulse of my palms
Yielding opportunity
Darwish is dead
Julia alive pricking wounds
With poignant words

Now I look back
And it stings to see
A pile of plasticity
Producing tomorrows
A long short past
Plastered to personal history
Pushes me forward

To no hue, man's land