Dried Flower

I wonder what to do in this worlddried rose
that makes me feel orphaned
even though my father is the lion of society.
Fear is my friend, love a secret I will not whisper.
“The walls have mice and mice have ears.”
The ground will pull me down if I walk outside.
And he will abandon me.
Even oxygen runs away like a horse.

I am like a dried flower
watered with tears every morning,
each drop burning my roots.
My petals are pruned by his cutting words,
cut from their stems and choked,
cinched by a silver feeta around my waist.

Now I am hidden away inside a man’s bedroom,
a dried flower between the pages of a diary.
I long to come out, hold the diary,
connect the words, match the broken puzzles.
I long to silence his roar, make him hear,
open my blossoms and feel the sun on my face.

Scatter my petals to the wind.
Speak words of beauty to a broken world.

By Farahnaz


  1. This is very moving, Farahnaz, and I so enjoyed reading it.

  2. I have shared your poem with our readers Farahnaz – it deserves to be heard


    All the best to you and the other ladies



  3. A very elegant, powerful, deeply moving poem, Farahnaz. The imagery stings, scalds….may your words burn their way into readers’ hearts around the world–and at home. Stacy

  4. Nancy Antle says:

    Farahnaz — This is a beautifully written, powerful poem. Your imagery gives such depth and poignancy to the feelings of the speaker and how she longs for beauty in a broken world. Very moving. Thank you for sharing this. Nancy

  5. Rebecca says:

    Farahnaz, so moving, so beautiful! It makes me ache to be with you, hearing your heart and trying to give you hope. There is hope. Cling to your heavenly father who has not forgotten you. You are not alone. Amazing writing and imagery as others have said.

Speak Your Mind