My Dearest Pillow...

My best friend is a pillow,
I talk to him all night,
If I’m a weeping willow,
He’s my shinning knight!

My lover is a pillow,
I hold him close to me,
When I feel sad and gloomy,
I run to him to set me free!

My haven is my pillow,
He never ever complains,
He is always there when needed,
To shield me from the rains!

I befriended a pillow,
I know it sounds insane,
Yet in its silence I found peace,
Since it can’t utter words that cause pain!

Little Selma (3)

Little Selma ran to her mother’s room and stood there in silence trying hard to figure out why her mom was crying. She hid in the corner fearing that her mom would be upset if she sees her.

Selma put her head down in sadness for her mom’s tears. Her curly golden brown hair locks fell gently over her face and covered her pained features. A tear fell over her rosy blushed cheeks and unintentionally she made a sound, similar to a sigh. Selma’s mom turned around and saw little Selma. Slowly, she called her daughter over to come and sit by her side. “Come here little Selma.” She said, “What’s wrong?”

“I just felt that you are very sad and that made me cry. What is wrong? Where is grandma now? Is she coming over?” Selma said in a sad and muffled voice.

Selma’s mom inhaled deep long breaths while her tears ran down all the way to her neck and covered the collar of her black dress. “Grandma won’t be coming here anymore.” Selma’s mom replied, hoping for the questions to end here.

“Is she angry at me? Did I do anything to upset here?” Selma’s questions continued to flow.

“No honey, of course not. Grandma was very sick and she is resting now. She is going to a better place where she we will be healthy and happy again.” Selma’s mom replied.

“Can we visit her?” Selma asked anxiously.

“I’m afraid not. But I’ll tell you a little trick you can do: Every time you miss her, close your eyes and remember her and you will see her in front of you.” Selma’s mom said, trying so hard not to falter and stay strong.

Selma was confused. She hugged her mom and laid her head on her lap and fell in silence.


Later on that night, Selma could hear her mom in the next room, she could hear her crying.
Selma stayed in her bed, closed her eyes real tight and saw her grandma and spoke to her for a few minutes before she fell asleep.

“Good night Grandma. I love you…” Those were her last words…

Little Selma (2)

As they sat in the living room reading a book about fairies and their cute little wings, Selma looked out the window, stared wonderingly into the sky and turned back to her mom and asked: “Mom, why is the sky blue?”

Selma’s mom fell into silence for a while; she couldn’t remember what she’d learned in school about that subject and she couldn’t begin to imagine how her little girl’s mind wondered into that direction causing her to ask such a question!

“Hmmm… Well honey, the sky is blue during the day, gray when it’s cloudy and black at night. In the evening, it is a cool shade of pink, orange and red.” She wittingly replied.

“Can I touch it? I mean if I stand high enough, on the longest ladder ever made, can I touch it?” Selma asked again.

“No sweetie, you can’t. If you’re on an airplane that the closest you can get to the sky but you cannot touch it. Think about it, somethings around us are so beautiful, like stars, the moon and the sun, in order to keep them safe from harm, they are paced far away.” Selma’s mom replied.

“So they won’t get dirty like the sea?” Selma asked trying to make sense of what she had just heard.

“Yes. So they can stay clean and beautiful” Selma’s mom replied.

“Why do people make beautiful things dirty mom?” Selma asked again!

Selma’s mom feared the conversation heading into this direction. She didn’t want to explain the carelessness of human beings to Selma, she didn’t want her to know about their greed and their selfishness.

“Selma, some people are not careful enough when dealing with beautiful things. They don’t know how their actions affect the things around them. If you want this to change some day, you have to take care of everything you feel is beautiful.” Selma’s mom replied.

Selma ran to the next room, carried her little kitten and came back.

As she held her close to her heart she whispered, “I will always take care of you because you are beautiful to me”.

Yet another day passes with Selma and her steps through life.
The night falls and the sky is black again, glimmering with little stars scattered here and there.
Selma closes her eyes and falls into a peaceful sleep.

Good night Selma.

Little Selma (1)

“Why is that man sitting there on the side of the street mom?” The little girl, Selma, asks her mom. “Doesn’t he have a house to go to?”

Selma’s mother becomes uneasy… She searches hastily for a right answer and replies, “He doesn’t have a home sweetie. I think he does not have enough money to afford to live in one.”

Selma’s eyes frown and then she asks, “Why doesn’t his mommy or daddy let him live with them? They don’t like him?”

“Of course they do honey, they probably don’t have the money to support him either.” The worried mother replies.

“Can’t we invite him to live with us then? He can sleep in the guests’ room.” Selma innocently suggests.

Selma’s mother knew where all this would lead to: an hour of questions and answers resulting in Selma’s precious tears.

She looked at Selma, trying to figure out the right words to say.

Slowly, she held her closer, gently played with her hair as she explained the unfairness of life to her 5 years old girl:

“There are many things you won’t be able to fully understand now, some I still don’t understand till this day! There are many things you would like to change, many things you will feel are unfair but in time you’ll learn that this is life. You see, it’s not always the choices we make that place us in a certain place at a certain time, there are many other factors involved.

Remember that old man selling corn I told you about? The one who was out there moving his cart, late at night, in the chilly weather, trying to make a living? Do you think that was fair?”

The little girl nodded no.

“Well, this is just another example of things we can’t control. The only thing we can do is help those less fortunate in little things that will not hurt their pride and try to make the best out of every blessing we have.”

“Can we buy him lunch then?” Selma asked anxiously.

“Of course we can.” Selma’s mom replied.

And that night, as Selma’s mom laid in her cozy bed next to her husband after putting little Selma to bed, she remembered that look on her daughter’s face and wished that she will never turn numb to the harshness and unfairness of life. She prayed that she will never turn a blind eye to the truth and will always remember that people’s value is not based on power, authority or money rather on the pureness of the heart and mind.

The Cleaning Lady...

It was just another day, and she dressed to go to work,
Her long dark her she tied up in a bun…
As she stole a glance at her watch, she gave a little smirk,
She was late and she had to run!

Her name was “”, it was not her choice of names,
Since it rhymed with funny things!
People would use her name to play stupid games,
In her mind, she’d give them flings!

Today she had to clean that family’s household,
It was the place she liked more than others,
She spent hours talking to granny; she was so old!
And she played with the sister and her brothers!

As she mopped the floor with her witch-like broomstick,
She hummed songs of love and joy…
One of the kids pulled on her a little trick,
And she slipped and stumbled on a hidden toy!

She smiled and continued to work; dusting was next,
A drop of sweat falling down on to her forehead,
On that desk she came across a paper with a text,
Held it in her hand as she slowly rested on the side of the bed…

She read:
“My life is a delicate guitar, its strings are beauty and love,
Yet when I play I hear no sound!
I look into the skies, way up above,
And yet I see nothing around!”

Footsteps getting closer, she can hear them now,
She had to get up and dust!
She needed to find a way out somehow,
But she was caught up in the word’s lust!

“What are you doing?” She heard a scream!
“How dare you read my stuff”?
Her face turned red, she wished it was a dream,
“Get out now, enough is enough!”

She gathered her things and out the door she went,
With thoughts of what she had read floating in her mind,
Her pain she twisted and into a smile her lips she bent,
It is time to go back home and her fears to unwind…

Grains of Sand...

People are like delicate grains of sand...
You grab some and hold them in your hand...

Many you will lose, they'll slip along the way...
Many will creep between your fingers day by day...

The tighter you squeeze, the more they'll rebel,
When you finally realize, most of them already fell!

The one grain which you will keep...
Is the one willing to stay and not leap...

For as hard as you hold on for what's not yours,
You run the risk of losing it to any open doors!

I Think I Was Wrong...

He thought life would be merry,
Then he thought to himself: “I think I was wrong”!
He thought he needed not to worry,
So he sat down and wrote this song!

Now I think I was wrong…
She laid in my arms and I held her tight,
I touched her hands with my lips all night,
I thought I loved her, I thought it was right,
But I fled the scene when I had to fight!

Now I know I was wrong…
Looking in her eyes and falling in a captivating bliss,
The passion I felt from one tender kiss,
I never knew I would have to face this,
I never thought I would run away from this!

Now I’m sure I was wrong…
I held her now close to my hear yet I was being fake,
I felt the things I’ve shared with her were a mistake,
I held on because her heart was going to break,
When I asked for an ending disguised with a “break”!

Forgive me I was wrong…
I wanted this to go on,
The happiness you brought,
The serenity I sought,
I should, I ought,
Say sorry for I was wrong…