‘You must be hungry aren’t you Marc,’ she stated to me giggling. ‘Uh yes I am actually,’ I honestly replied. Our food arrived and we started...to eat our lunch. We have talked for about an hour mostly about her family, her job, and her dreams in life. Sara Ibrahim grew up in a small village thirty minutes from the capital. During the tyrant’s regime her older sister was kidnapped and raped by the tyrant’s eldest son, her family was devastated and only found their solace in sending their daughters. Praying to the sun.But there is just my memory fairnessUnfairnessIgnorance overflows the world with its very hot flameI would normally slaughter youBut that would contradictThis may sound angryBut I do not careAre you okay?I want some love. Praying to the sun.But there is just my memory fairnessUnfairnessI want some love. Praying to the sun.But there is just my memory fairnessUnfairness***BITTERSWEET(Note: This song was written by Kahami, who requested I sing her song)I look outside my bedroom. More

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