A Palestinian Child's Cry

Written for Palestine

A Palestinian Child's Cry
Heavens cry, mothers bemoan with their daughters.
Fathers and sons trade hot metals, nation is slung out.
Children upfront, young minds dance the limbo.
Ammunition, wars as toy games,
Battle fields as playgrounds,
Bullets blow the whistle,
Trenches shield the gunshots,
Murder tutorials the course.
Predation, vandalism and terrorism as an honour,
Grades in white and khaki stripes,as the nation wastes her rising suns.
Young children roam Palestine streets with bewildered hunger in their eyes,
Their cries are a sound of agony and anguish to scar a young for the rest of its days.
Only God can now reach out to their cries,
Why this sudden bewilderment and confusion?
On this dusty earth are buried dreams, goals and ambitions.
Long tanned under the Mesopotamian sun, lies several thousands of heroic souls, fathers, brothers, uncles and all loved ones battling for freedom.
Leaving young ones with an empty mind and orphaned souls.
The voice bringing awareness to all beings on Palestine will never die, nor this poem ever end.
For the struggle goes on, and yes this poem goes on.
Lets expand the truth, and spill the light into darkness.
Lets run a relay, for I'm now passing on the stick to you, taking it further.
For this poem remains forever under construction.