The spicy pickles
And fragrant curries of my homeland
Feel foreign to a tongue
That has been rejected by the people
Who come from where its roots rise
Yet the crispy fries
And juicy burgers
Of its birthplace
Will never be flavorful enough
A contradictory existence
Brown bathed in a white landscape
But never enough
For either colour
Swirling on the canvas.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
querencia ~ poetry
Şiir"let the moon teach you the art of being a mysterious and beautiful woman" ~ alexandra vasiliu
