The Story Is About..

Here is a story of a young boy

When he was a star standing with joy

He was asked to tell a story

“A story about love, a story about wisdom, a story about a nation..a story”

Said a man from the audience

But the boy just and did not know what to do or say

 Thoughts were swinging and sliding on slides

Ideas were flying like eagles in the sky

Then he thought of something

SOMETHING ..

It had blocked his thoughts, his mind, his smile

And he said…

What is a story when you run out of words?

What is a story when you are out of ideas?

What is a story when anger is a wall blocking your thoughts?

What is a story when tears are…

|* cries, cries  

“Cry over what?!” said a motivated future thought

Cry over unnecessary fights

Especially when dark is always turned into light

Cry over a frozen screen or torn book..

Cry over forbidden love or a sad look

Cry over a spoiled flower or plant

Or

Over a dead memory buried in the past

|*cries cries

What is a story when the eyes are brimming with tears?

What is a story when reality is just a dream?

What is a story when vampires sucked all the ideas?

What is a story when no lines are attached?

What is it?

Just

What is it?

|*moments of silence..breathe breathe

The audience was amazed and clapped

The young boy’s eyes gazed

And there

A smile was drawn on his face

With a light laugh

The Timeline of Thoughts!

In 1983, Lebanon was in a civil war
and yes.. I was born
A year of devastation
when people cried for proper education... 

Bombs were dropping
buildings were collapsing

Windows were breaking

Shadows were hiding
Tears were dropping..
and fear...
oh fear..
years passed and what shall I add or recall.

*moment of silence |breathe breathe…


In 1990 the civil war was over
but the memories weren’t fading because they’re written on walls
Their traces were scattered on people’s doors

Knock, knock who is there?

The bells of the future were playing a sweet symphony

In such a harmony

I can smell the sweet scent of the flowers that a child had grown

I can see the green wild grass driven all around the flowers.

I can see the snow piling up on the mountains.. shining like white gold

I can even sense the warmth of …

“Wake up, wake up” said a voice.

Why do I have to wake up when I was not daydreaming?

Why do I have to …

Don’t you believe in hope?

Won’t you scream for hope?