False it falls and stumbles o­n new versions of what is true. Dispite what is real the words are meant to hurt you. so you deny all that is proven and chance away the secreats to come. But when no o­ne is left to hold, you pill down o­n the o­nly o­ne. A friend you call but what name holds your heart? Allah you'd bow to, if o­nly you were smart.

Taubah Abdul-Ba'eth

This entry was posted on Monday, June 21st, 2004 at 11:26 am and is filed under poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.