This poem is the story of every child living on those borders separating our countries and people…
You hear about the bombs and fumes
I see them daily in front of my eyes
You sympathize with the dead under dunes
They are my family so I hear only cries.
I had many dreams, one day I will see what peace is
But I think it’s an illusion it never existed,
I curse god in my bed when the night pours in
Sometimes I am really scared , will I see the next morning?
Once our life is back to normal
They come and ask to evacuate our homes
I giggle at their words who are dressed in formals
How can we leave our place built with love and stones?
I ask my mother to let me go beyond those lines
To convey this simple thing, war will just give them my blood
She says they know more than me and she simply smiles
I think and re think and giggle again on her words.
How hard it is to understand they are just destroying my dreams
I go to school daily but I sit in the last and cry
She teaches us how to run, protect, evacuate when there is war
Am I here to simply prepare myself to die?
I saw a nightmare where I was hit
But I felt no pain only warmth
I was glad it did not affect even a bit
And I died without a sound.
Well, I know nothing about these scenes
If they think my life will let them win
I wish them luck to win countries
What will they do if people are not left?
I only pray daily to give me a silent death
The same I saw in my dreams
I do not want to feel that pain in my breath
I ain’t a hero of war stories…