BLOOD DONATION
by Izza Fartmis - Morocco
Here is my precious blood,
The dearest I've ever had,
My parents' and my legacy
By true decree, not fallacy.
Here's my scarlet blood,
With my love dyed in red;
Its white globules are a balm
Transporting peace and calm,
Here's my blood dripping
Out with red and while petals,
Sly messengers to hospitals
Booing out death's slipping;
Here's my blood to re-use
Bearing my traits and values;
Meaning so little in view,
But so much to help rescue
Some souls in helpless need,
Some victims of a blind war,
Or of a reckless driving corps
Or a dry-sick heart to feed.
Here's my blood; who knows ?
As the wind oft randomly blows,
As it goes the other way round,
In such need I may also be found.
Here's my blood not like a gift
But human due, to my credit;
I will never forhold its donation
Regardless of its destination.
