On the First Day of Freedom

Theme: Freedom-Huriye-Azadi

On the first day of freedom,

I would visit Beersheba,

standing at the step of my old house

and crying.

I would eat konafa from Nablus,

walking in its old alleys.

At the back of my head,

fighting the flashbacks of the checkpoints.

I would leave the picture of the old city

of Jerusalem at the gravestones of my friends,

swallowing the wish this trip was supposed

to be a group trip.

I would hold the Palestinian flag,

running in the streets of Gaza

before opening my eyes and

remember my legs are amputated.