The regime killed people my age—people younger than me, older than me.
They killed someone with the same name as me.
They killed someone in my favorite place, in the city where I lived.
They killed my friend’s father.
They killed my friend’s sister.
They killed a friend of a friend.
They killed a friend.
They killed brave people with dreams.
People who loved life.
I wish I could write a poem.
I wish I could write all their names.
I wish they could have their tea on the morning of freedom.
I wish we could see a free Iran someday.










