Just another day that passes by as the future unfolds. Then the present turns into our past and our worries are renewed. We get another bleak chance as the sun rises and some more time for forgiveness as the sun sets to repent the wrongs we did once again. The tunes of the town continues and your heart beats once more. Another breath is taken as another is stopped. Our fingers and toes, lips and ears continue to function but our thoughts linger. We then seek another day, as this cycle turns and our lives fated for the grave.
![middleeasternpoetry:
Every time a dictator falls from the throne of history, embellished with our tears, I clap my hands until they glow red. But back home when I turn on the television; another dictator flows from the mouths of the people… from a screen glowing with cheers. I die with laughter at my naive self; tears burn my eyes until they glow red. - Adnan Al-Sayegh
*Kurdish boy, 1981. / Death to the Middle Eastern [Nazi] Baa’th Party…](http://24.media.tumblr.com/772fcd3a955a4410cda86d0df801e113/tumblr_mhx6zvv57r1r7fnc1o1_500.jpg)
