By Zahra Zamorano

If I could feed one ounce of Earth
into empty stomachs of stubborn roots
would this bide enough time
to see wings of hope
fly home again?
If I could write one song to free souls
from dusty dungeons,
this poem might work miracles
and I could rescue myself from
this noose of selfish despair.
Alas, there are no solutions
and life can be cruel
and cold as I.

– Zahra Zamorano contributed this poem to PalestineChronicle.com.