A D Day Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

A D DAY

The cages, everywhere,
Claim a national anthem,
Which is well-registered,
To highlight some D-Day!

Governments are owners,
But people celebrate,
Like the Fourth of July!

Most D-Days are war-based,
Some have won, others lost!

I was in three wars,
The worst, made by Reagan,
"The Iraq-Iran war! "

When ready for a flight,
Among my war flights,
Saw a friend in dispatch,
Top of well-known pilots.

He, injured before the war,
Had one hand in the cast,
Could not hold the stick!

But still felt obliged,
Chose to go to the front,
To inform the pilots,
Of the zones and targets!

"I collected hands, feet,
Cut off from the bodies,
And put them in the bag,
Sent them to the forensic…"
He cried and told me…

Impacted by the war,
Felt obliged to go on,
To achieve all he could,
To pay back to the nation.

What to say about war?
As one who was involved,
I feel pain in my spine! ! !

I observed some women,
Kidnapped and displaced,
Transferred by fighters,
With blood in the pants,
And remembered Shiraz…

Among the displaced,
Arriving at the hotel,
A woman, very young,
With a skirt, new, white,
On her crotch was blood!

I recall the Afghans,
Soldiers of Ahmad Shah,
And the casket of a dead,
Inside the helicopter…

No space was around,
And we had to walk on,
A casket with that man!

Israel and Hamas,
Shooting of rackets, bombs,
And rivers of blood,
Take me to what happened!

Fall of the USSR,
And I saw the Tajiks,
And I saw the Uzbeks,
And I saw Azeris,
And I saw Armenians!

What about the Niger?
What about the Ukraine?
What about the Herat?
What about the Sudan?
What about two Koreas?
What about women, girls,
Iranians and Afghans?