If you are born before time/ waiting for your prime/ hit the road now Dexter/ live it up to the core/ you’ll never be sure/ what is it that you’re after/ sing the common melody/ of mother nature in a dance/ drowned in temptation/ juggled like a ball/ in the hands of salvation/ from foreigners and locals/ sinners and immortals/ sunk into fame/who are you to blame? Puppet on the show/ your mind ceased to grow/ doped by the bleach/ of the meticulous speech/ delivered by a dork/ in old and new York/ groomed with sensation/ lifting up the mask/ is such a weary task/ for Lebanese to endure/both poor and rich/ await your revelation/ beat up your chest/ and feel the pulsation/ thumping the request/ of an independent nation/ the red hot smirk/ of the innocent jerk/ in folly or in sane/ in anxious degradation/ choking up the pain/ all lost in vain/ an elegant inflation/ the pompous and the meek/ the conniving and the sleek/ marching in descent/ with shameless desolation/ your mirror on the wall/smashed in/ crashed in/falling into pieces/crooked like a tree/standing in the storm/ never to conform/to fatal resignation.

Angelique Fallah

Monday, November 28, 2011