O dear Mogadishu,
I cried today,
I saw you raising, & falling again,
Your roads blocked,
Your women flogged,
Your elders whipped,
Disappointed by your own kids,
Maimed by your own people,
And then I ask myself,
When will this madness end,
The soul says today,
The body says tomorrow,
But every day is of the same.
I cannot stop hoping,
Hoping for your better,
In a day or two,
In a year or two,
A decade or so,
Peace will come,
No matter what,
No matter when,
No matter how,
I dream about it,
Already Saw you differently,
Dreams never come too early.
Hassan Kossar