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My best friend Zeena
Cries
Her tears dripping
On her pink and dirty stuffed
Bear
Her sister,
Also crying
Sitting inside the car
Zeena forces into my cold hand
A jar of rocks
We collected last spring
For our fairy house
Finish the fairy house
By the small stream
Down at the
Garden
She sticks her head
Out the window of her car
BYE
She cries with a stutter
In her soft voice
I stood there
Blank
As my hope
Slipped from the
Tips of my short
Fingers
Sister Nahla
Grabs my hand
They are headed out of Kabul
She says
Where the wealthy go
To flee Afghanistan
On planes
I'm mad we are poor
I want to leave
This horrible
Horrible
Place
YOU ARE READING
The Journey Home
PoesiaIn this strikingly touching poem journal, follow the journey of a young afghan refugee, Ajani. As time passes in Kabul, Afghanistan, the capital and the city which she was born and raised in, she struggles to find serenity for her and her family. Th...
