Gang Rape

moon-in-clouds

She was 18—
returning home from a wedding,
her delicate body exhausted from dancing
and laughing, unaware of the endless night ahead.

Wind

flying-a-kite

I want to live my life like a tree—
grow without limitation,
bloom with no explanation, regulation
and die—naturally.

What Will I Be?

teenage-writing-workshop-Sept2014

A lawyer or a doctor or government worker…
Play the violin…
Be a painter?

Beauty of Sanglakhat

teenage-writing-workshop-Sept2014

The fruit is delicious.
I once was caught with my cousins and siblings,
eating from the garden’s grove—

Rain

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Clouds drop their precious tears
Covering tears on earth

Mazar My Homeland

teenage-writing-workshop-Sept2014

There is no Taliban
Sometimes there is fighting, but not like Kabul.

Oh, Baba Sahib

teenage-writing-workshop-Sept2014

Can you hear the voices and laughter of families?
“Win a goal, pass it here!”
Their shouting is soon replaced by cheers.

Mrs. Beautiful and Mr. Nice

red-curtain

I have to hear you man!
I am not a mistake
Of course I make a mistake
You too. We are human.

My Father My Hero

father-silhouette

For the daughter, her Dad is the first hero—
the man who never cheats her, the man who trusts her,
and gives everything without regret.

Afghan Woman

rainbow-dress

I walk into a room—the darkest room.
A man is there. Who is he? I wonder.
He is not the one of my dreams.