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Zainab Jabbar Poem
The girl weeps a bruised and bitter rain,
A childhood choked, a garden grown in pain.
My laughter, brittle glass, it cracks and breaks,
Beneath the weight of unforgiving stakes.
They built a fortress, walls of rigid stone,
And left my heart a barren, windswept zone.
No lover's hand to soothe, no gentle gaze,
Just scornful whispers in a hateful maze.
Each hallway echoes with a judging eye,
A constant feeling that I want to die.
They see a monster where a child should bloom,
And fill my days with ever-present gloom.
The books lie open, pages blurred with tears,
School's a torment, fueling all my fears.
A secret festers, a corrosive blight,
Consuming hope, and plunging me in night.
I paint a smile, a mask of purest white,
To hide the shadows lurking in the light.
But when the moon ascends its lonely throne,
The tears return, and I am all alone.
A burden I believe, a whispered curse,
This aching need to flee, to be dispersed.
The razor sings a siren's tempting call,
A fragile promise to escape it all.
The girl weeps, a final sigh,
A whispered plea to simply die,
My childhood dead, a silent tomb,
Lost in this endless aching gloom.
Copyright © Zainab Jabbar | Year Posted 2025
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Zainab Jabbar Poem
In Gaza's dust, where shadows softly creep,
Small feet once danced, now silent, fast asleep.
A cruel, dark night has swallowed every gleam,
Shattering laughter, like a fragile dream.
Their homes are dust, a broken stone,
No bed to rest, no place to own.
They wander lost, with empty stare,
No safe spot found, nowhere to bear.
The air grown thick with cries and falling stone,
A lullaby of bombs, a mournful moan.
Tiny hands tremble, holding tight to air,
As homes turn dust, consumed by dark despair.
Their tummies ache, a constant pain,
No food, no shelter from the rain.
Their mothers gone, their fathers too,
A lonely world, for me and you.
And mothers mourn, with broken heart,
For children torn, so far apart.
A father's grief, a silent plea,
For what was lost, for what won't be.
So many children, vanished from our sight,
Swallowed by darkness, in the endless fight.
Each stolen breath, a future torn apart,
A bleeding wound upon the world's own heart.
With no sweet lullaby, no story told,
Their fragile dreams, now buried in the cold.
A generation, scattered like the sand,
Their memory etched upon a weary land.
A million tears, a river flowing deep,
For children lost, who only longed to sleep
In peaceful beds, with dreams that children dream,
Not nightmares born, of war's relentless scream.
So many souls, a countless sum,
Before their short, sad life was done.
A million tears for those so small,
Who answered fate's most bitter call.
No glint of hope, just sorrow's heavy chain,
A tragic end, amidst the pouring rain.
A haunting echo, where joy used to reside,
A silent scream, that deep inside will hide.
Copyright © Zainab Jabbar | Year Posted 2025
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Zainab Jabbar Poem
Small hands, reaching for a sun,
That hides behind a world undone.
Child of light, with eyes so bright,
Now dimmed by shadows of the night.
A tiny seed of hope remains,
Through bitter winds and pouring rains.
A fragile bloom, it struggles on,
A silent plea, before it's gone.
Remember now, this tender face,
Lost in a world, devoid of grace.
Protect the flame, before it dies,
And lift the light back to the skies.
Copyright © Zainab Jabbar | Year Posted 2025
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Zainab Jabbar Poem
A stranger lives beneath my skin,
A twisted thing, a grinning sin.
It pulls and prods, it makes me sick,
Another bite, another trick.
The porcelain mocks my face,
A painted lie, a shameful space.
I heave and choke, a bitter tide,
Trying to wash the hate inside.
Each inch I pinch, each bone I crave,
A hollow shell inside this grave.
Duct tape binds, a desperate plea,
To sculpt a ghost that isn't me.
This body aches, this body lies,
Reflecting back distorted eyes.
I hate the flesh, the curve, the bend,
A war I wage that has no end.
Copyright © Zainab Jabbar | Year Posted 2025
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