It is very delightful for me to write or read a poem. It encourages me to take the opportunity to raise my voice to other people. Also, we can understand how someone feels in a poem. It is amazing to share someone’s feeling in a poem and to know why he or she wrote the poem. It’s not easy for me to write about my past. We all had a scary past which is not forgettable. And I try to write that scary story of the past as a poem and let other know how we spent our childhood.
Shillah Sami is from Afghanistan. She was born on January 1, 1991. She lives in Seattle. Before she came to the USA she lived in Russia. Shillah has been living n the USA for almost two years. She loves to read books and she is always proud of her lovely family. Shillah also enjoys writing poems.
Where I Am From
I am from a big tree with many branches that are always tied together.
I am from a kind and grateful mom who holds her children in her arms
I am from two lovely brave and kind brothers
With four lovely, friendly sisters with smiley faces.
I am from tears in my eyes with memories of my dad.
I am from those memories.
I am from a country where people kill and destroy
From the cries and screams of children, young, and the old.
From where women are hit by their own fathers, brothers, husbands
I am from the fears in eyes that saw the dead bodies.
From all of those memories.
I am from hope, belief and faith,
From praying that my country becomes peaceful,
I am from the soul which is bought, sold and destroyed by strangers,
I am from all these memories in my heart.
I am a girl who still has pride in her country.
I am AFGHANISTAN!
Why Did I Leave?
My life was like a sun shining
Light and bright as a fresh rose,
Full of fragrance,
Beautiful as a green tree.
We held on to each other with strong arms
arms that rose in prayer for their children
arms that always held the tiny fingers
of each of a father’s children
so that he could guide them the right way.
My life was like a flower
that was wide open with a clean smell
suddenly, the Iraq war started, the lights of the sky
turned to darkness, everything finished.
Everywhere the smell of death,
crying of old and young men and women,
the roads turned the color of red blood
blood on the roads.
At that time a dark bird came
and took those strong arms from us
everything turned to its opposite
happiness to sadness.
Life had gotten difficult to live
so we had to escape!
Escape from our own motherland.
After that we came as immigrant people,
to live in a strange country, Uzbekistan
was like being at the very deep point of the sea,
we felt that we were at the very darkest point of the sea
and always hoped for a light to show us the way.
And I always hoped we would make our way from the deep
to the shallow, after awhile my life did turn simple again,
it was like I lived it before the war.
I came to the USA, it was what I wished for,
Now my life is like white birds who can feel peace
and fly free to the high sky
Yet, sometimes I remember what I lost
It was my past, my life, I will never forget.
My life is like a forest, dark, quiet, full of secrets
From afar you see or feel little
But as you come near, you feel how
Beautiful it is.
And you can begin to find
Someone’s love, faith and belief
Inside of the forest.