Poem #11 for Fall, 2015, Creative Writing

                         My Father’s Belief


This is my father’s belief
To give my all
And take back what was stolen by the thief

A long journey searching for relief
To climb the city that thrives on the mountain and sound the Prayer Call
This is my father’s belief

A knife, a stone, a pistol, as taught by our Commander in Chief
To stab, to throw, to shoot, to squall
And take back what was stolen by the thief

But sometimes I wonder, can we turn a new leaf?
“They took your land, your home, left you with nothing but a dirt wall!”
This is my father’s belief

“Make us proud, Habif.”
I hide my tremble beneath the covert wires packaged neatly under my shawl
And take back what was stolen by the thief

I am enthralled by my father’s grief
This had not been my intention at all
For, this is my father’s belief
To give my life, and take back what was stolen by the thief