À l’heure du tout à l’image et du buzz sans suite, «l’express» souhaite faire découvrir la plume de poètes, de chanteurs, d’écrivains et de tous ceux qui jettent leur âme sur le papier, et qui mettent en mots des réflexions profondes.

I sit there on the armchair that I passed

my youth in

I hear the servants gossip about how my

state is as guilty as sin

Sometimes visible for my shortcomings

Other times invisible to the happiness of

those that carry diamond rings.

My own blood became my enemy

As I yearn for everything

that could’ve been...

Don’t misunderstand me, I don’t yearn

for the touch of a man

But simply, the permission

to construct a plan

I am merely a woman

Unable to have her own money,

unable to be grand

A shadow this society made me

So if I sound bitter, forgive me

Due to my now old age,

I’ve attended many weddings

But I’m not going to talk about

the vipers’ hissings

Instead I will give an account of the altar

as an observing party;

The eyes of the young bride filled with hope

Their brittle hands and skinny necks

about to be bound by a rope

The nervous smile longing to bring

warmth to a home like they were taught

And instead of a fulfilled thought

They’ll be greeted with the lustful eyes

of a beast that can’t be fought

So again, forgive me if the truth

offends you

Forgive me if it describes you

And if it doesn’t, just know

that one day, in some shape or form,

it’ll concern you too.

For the ones that couldn’t

speak their truth.

Bio

Nuzhat Kausim

A 22-year-old office clerk with a deep and enduring passion for literature and poetry, her heart belongs to the written word, she finds solace and inspiration in books.