Would You Do?

Would you love me
when I am old and fatigued
when my bones are conspicuous
and all what I carry is weariness

Would you love me
when I lay writhing in pain
and my heart shows no mercy
or forgiveness
for any soul
When I am faint-hearted
and all I do is weeping bitterly

Would you love me
when our oak grows old
and our thatched cottage
feels blue
Would you do?
Would you do?
Would you do?

#Haleema_alaide_writer

poem

Part 1

She was brewing tea, a process she mastered long time ago. Adding sugar, boiling water, adding tea and then mint. She brooded over what have become her “present”. Fatimah was not very content with how her life turned to be. Living in a modest house in Gaza Camp made her less excited about life. In the Camp, houses and shops are built from brick and cement.The buildings could tell stories only from their old and cracked facades. Children took a fancy to streets and are now considered their favorite playing areas. Some men were digging in the streets, others were constructing a saloon for ladies,  the “Imam” called for Dohr prayer. Hurriedly, men started lining up in the mosque for the prayer. In the Camp, it was a norm that women prepare lunch and that young girls help them with both setting the table and cleaning the dishes. Fatimah made the tea and then joined the rest of the family for lunch. They had lunch silently because her father thinks it is a disgusting habit to talk while eating. After lunch, her father sat to watch television and drink tea and complain about the new laws imposed by the government to raise prices. r

Fatimah went to her room and closed the door. Silence fell on the room. She slept.

#Haleema_alaide_writer

cup.jpgtea