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Resilient Hearts and Hidden Stories
Shall I tell you
of the olives growing on my land,
of droplets of innocent blood,
of hidden stories in her heart?
How the days pass me by,
where hopes are kept secret.
I, a poor soul, weeping with a portrait:
'a boy standing in a desert street '.
When I sowed the seeds
in my land, covering slashes and pains,
will it belong to me forever,
or survive the dawn of landing eve?
We, the people,
whose hearts never give up,
until the last breath,
we never bow our knees.
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This poem evokes a deep sense of reflection, resilience, and the enduring connection to one's land and history.