Immigrant

Kay Hassan
To my   'un- rogue'  fellow.

If you are an old  immigrant ,  mourn your  luck ,
For you  had lost your most valuable time,
Fighting  your  rogue brothers and  the  worst waves  of invaders .
You lost your motherland ,AND  GAVE UP YOUR LOVELY CULT ,

Don’t pass the cult  to thy offspring
Even if you are Greek or a  Roman descendant,
Son of Genghis khan, or
Son of prophets or son of holy Jews
YOU ARE JUST  A CURSED BOY,
TIRED OF THE CITIES AND LANGUAGES.
PROUD, BUT NOT CONFIDENT,

Un-rogue- fellow,
Un-rogue- fellow,
Stop somewhere
And show your tears
You are  not a  thriller-
You are a  grotesque mask

No matter how you Mourn  Your  Luck,
School  thy raging soul - and for good,
Lift  up  yourself ,  higher than ever,
Then  look up unto  topmost- eyes,
Not At Your Past ,Your  Nethermost Region.:
Your ancient arsenal of MALICE.

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