A social media post sent by a friend in the middle of the night, that prompted this piece.


A refugee camp in Syria
An eight year old with a sweater
And a warm glass of tea

His superpower a smile
That takes the warmth
Of his Syrian sun
And transports it into my bedroom
On a cold Seattle night.

He does not hold back
His wings spread he flies
And arrives here
Among friends.

In my mind
We sit in a circle on chipped cement
Pretending to be eight
Pretending to be together
Pretending to drink tea.

I plagiarize shamelessly
If I had a superpower
It would be to fly
I would tell other children
From around the world
To come and play with me
And my sisters and my friends
And together sit in the sun
Feel what it feels like

For a moment to be free.




Poetry and whatever else comes to mind

Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.

Recommended from Medium

Tranquility’s warm embrace

Oh, Death–You Always Win (A Haibun)

Flowers Are My Fantasy

Run Alone or Run Together?

hunger strike day 4: crowley thoth

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Sameer Bhangar

Sameer Bhangar

Poetry and whatever else comes to mind

More from Medium

But Here I Am

Living On In You

Of Mothers and Birds