Beirut,
Destruction and alluring zen
Love and heart ache
A place of peace and war
The grit of structure
Buildings in the shape of bullet holes
Metal containers hugging people to sleep
With the beauty of the architecture
Grand designs and lavish concrete
Green trees and garbage
Provides a strange and peculiar mix
People of all difference
Difference of thought, of belief
Of unbelief, and of all unusual walks of life
It’s strange alright
Images of refugee families
Sleeping on the sidewalks
Right next to the club and pub goers
The poor and the rich, all the same
Drunken and miserable Beiruti millennials
Feeding on the chaotic surroundings
Turning them into monsters of sadness
Pictures of a better life unseen
I’m lost, a disorder of existence
I love Beirut, but Beirut hates me
I’ve nothing here, but
Heartache and war
I grew up too fast
Most grow up too fast here
Beirut is for the privileged
An unforgiving place for those who can’t
And for those who won’t
Streets with a million ales and tales
Of people and things
Stories of happiness and stories of sadness
An imperfect mixture, an anomaly
Beirut,
The perfect anomaly
My hateful and lovable home.