BetterPhoto Member: ehsan shahin sefat


member since January 08, 2003

In the exile, on black and white.

On the blast of steam and dust.
When sunshine rises.
Iron horse appears on a small town.
He wears black and white.
Watching people everywhere rushing about.
Iron horse leaves the small town.
He follows parallel of the rails.
Which go out of the town by his eyes.
He wears black and white.
Pushing his hand on his pocket,
Crumpling ticket issued ten years past.
Walking toward the police station to sign up.
He wears on black and white.
Once,
On The blast of steam and dust.
When sunshine rises.
Iron horse leaves the small town.
Crows fly round the sky.
There was nothing left of a body who
Was wearing black and white.
poem by Ehsan Shahin

-ehsan shahin sefat

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Bio

My name is Ehsan Shahin Sefat and I am from Iran.

In the Exile
Everyone wants to win the game.
Everyone thinks the Right belongs to them.
Who can say who has the Right?
Nightingale sits on the cage pinned to the wall.
Looking at the cuckoo clock in the hall.
Any time the Cuckoo says:
Hi, "Who has got the Right?
Nightingale sings a song.
"I don't care, who is right", who is wrong
It is my life that is running out.
Cuckoo says"
"Any time I sing a song"
The Dictator would be one step ahead to The Judgment, And Resurrection time,
Poem by Ehsan Shahin
My Url: http://ehsanshahin.tripod.com/

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