Cruel World

Azra, Azra,
Wake up Azra.
Wake up Azra,
It is time to go.
Go where you must
But hate to do so.
Azra, it hurts me to say,
But you are the way.
Wake up Azra,
You have to go.

Azra, Azra,
You are made of gold,
But the gold, I cannot hold.

Wake up Azra, you must go.
I know Azra,
The world is cruel world.
This world is not yours or mine.
This world is not the one
We want to be.
This world is not
For you or me.

Azra, my little girl,
Your magical power,
Your ocean blues eyes,
Your smile of innocence,
Your body like a bud of rose
Is what will save us all?
It is your sweet innocence Azra,
That our lives depend on.

I know Azra it is not fare.
I know Azra it is too much
For you to bare.
But you see Azra,
I do deeply care.
For I love you more than you
Will ever know.

It is you Azra
That will save us all.
Wake up Azra
For you have to go.

Oh Mother, must I,
Must I really go?
Oh Mother, don't you know,
I am only five years old.
Oh Mother, can't you see
My body aches.
Oh Mother, can't you hear the screams-
The screams of my soul.
Oh Mother, must I really go?

Azra, Azra, my heart aches for you.
Azra I would love to
Instead of you, go.
You see my child
They do not want me.
They say I am too old, and
They want a little girl like you,
In their arms to hold.

Zora Teofilovic

In The News:

Poetry for the unpoetic  Annapurna Express
'Red Clover' and more poetry  The River Reporter
Saudade in Urdu poetry  The News International
cat poem #3 | Poetry  Illinois Times
Hawke's Bay poets live on air  New Zealand Herald
Fall 2020 Announcements: Poetry  Publishers Weekly
People turn poets amid pandemic  The Tribune India
Local poet releases new book  The Daily Planet
HYPE announces poetry contest winners  Pine Bluff Commercial

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