Leen El Taki
With a firm fist you jab
Jab so hard against a locked door to knock it down.
Frustration is the only thing feeding your hunger.
Anger like crumbs scatter on the floor of gratitude.
But you do not devour.
You wonder how you got pinned down inside,
What cuffed you so blindly with your hands free; giving you the illusion that you can fly while your wings were submerged in wet concrete and left to dry.