Irma Morcos born in August 16, 1958 in Jordan. She Studied Business Management in Canada. She worked at the Humanitarian Operations Center, Volunteered as an occupational therapist at the Kuwait Institute for Handicapped. Now she Work since December 2010 at the United Nations. She wrote many poems and publish them. She love playing the piano, drawing and love animals . Her dream is that One day she will work with an organization to help the homeless. Irma Morcos live in Kuwait.
Poems by Irma Morcos
My Other Part
I think of you ..I think again
Flowers hanging in the air,
Where daffodils grow
On snails and shells
Creeps the dawn, where sunshine dwells
I try so hard to wipe away
Anxieties and fears along the way
How come doors open when
They’re about to close, A feather lost,
Where crystal flows
With a Little Help
I cupped your face between my hands
my fingers gently through your face
I wanted to keep your expression
but your eyes-wide open ..Comatose
I remember you never saw the truth in them
I’ll make them narrower,
the warm eyes you had before..
I touch your cheeks, then i remember mine,
always wet with a broken heart
pressing them a little to create a smiling
face, that’s how I’d like them to be..
MY OWN CREATION
your lips, with all the abuse ,
the hurt you’ve caused , no..
I think I’ll leave your lips
can’t make more changes
I’ll even change my project
I’ve always loved cats
after all. .you’re just A PIECE OF CLAY.
I think of you – this time I fear
The clouds at my door will speed
their way , To teach me how
Life’s sad necessities
Will Shatter the dreams, of my broken glass
Now I’m hurt ,though I’ve been blessed
with starting again When things go wrong
and you’re gone away.
Not long ago, there was a princess
But later she found out that she was made of biscuits…
Once a piece of dough in the hands of a man who decided to make her …..a princess.
He put her on display ..behind the tinted glass window..
From where she watched him every day.
Her chocolate colored eyes
would follow him inside his shop …
making and selling his assorted biscuits,,but she
would say to herself …i’m a princess..
one day he sold her ..
she cried when two little hands picked her up…
someone bought her for his little girl,
she knew she will be a princess no more.