do not begin to ask me this question
as i cannot bear you with the answer,
because it may seem so simple,
but peeling all the layers back makes it feel more complicated,
ripped away from my home at an early age leaves me yearning for the one that i could be.
my name is merely a token, a reminder of where my soul truly belongs,
among all the unfamiliar faces and places
far away from a my haven.
The modern city leaves a peculiar trace within,
something different to the ancient land i've grown to enjoy
feeling beneath my feet.
the strong scent of arabia simply reminds me
of the sweet scents of my motherland, reminding me of the honeyed smell of armenia,
the one i truly love and want to see.
YOU ARE READING
Projections Of The Mind
Randompoems about love, life and other things alike written by me. inspired by the love, happiness, fear and pain. all from my head to paper to your screens. all originally original. it gets better over time.
