A Flower in Pain by Mais Al Reem Al Fayomi

I am a child

And the child is a flower

And the flower is an important thing that shouldn’t be infringed upon.

But where am I from the laws of flowers?

Where is the law’s punishment for my harm?

My scent has disappeared.

There is nothing left except for the smell of burning.

My rosy colour has disappeared; it melted away, from me, from my wounds.

Have you seen a black rose before?

I am that black rose.

The sad rose that no one asked about the reason it is bending.

Until when?

When will the sun of love and safety shine on me?

[social_warfare]

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