A problem like a cheap, black stone
in the treasure box of my country.
The people here make of readiness, brilliance
an idle toy.

How clever it is to bear 
so much of an unpilfered mind,
but to thieve one’s life of chance and care
by way of a reigning mould,
a road set to vanquish travel by design.

We could have been the greenest apple
in the eye of a fruitful world, but chose instead
to cross ourselves.

We could have brought sumps, dear plenitudes
to earth, straightened-out the crooked timber of a lie.

Omar Sabbagh is a widely published British-Lebanese poet based in Beirut.

Poetry submissions to thursdaypoems@gmail.com