When will we learn to be human?
One sky above us, endless, wide,
Gaza and Kashmir, side by side.
One moon that rises, one sun that falls
on shattered homes and broken walls.
A mother counts her children twice,
once by name, once by sacrifice.
She waits beside a splintered pane
for steps that won't come home again.
A child draws a house with a roof of red,
not knowing home can bury the dead.
that walls can break, and hearts, and trust,
and turn the living into dust.
So tell me, world,what have we done?
Why weigh a child by where they're from?
One tear makes headlines, bright and loud,
another vanishes in a crowd.
We draw our borders, raise our walls,
while somewhere, someone's childhood falls.
We fight for flags, for pride, for land,
and crush what we don't understand.
But grief was never born with borders.
No bullet checks a name or orders.
It finds the old. It finds the young.
It speaks in every mother's tongue.
From Gaza's ash to Kashmir's snow,
to lands the cameras never know.
Sudan, Congo, silent skies,
the same old sorrow in disguise.
Someone loved the one who's gone.
One less plate set at dawn.
A tiny shirt folded away,
and called yesterday.
In Yemen's dust, in Syria's rain,
in Ukraine's cold and endless pain—
war steals a father's hand, a voice,
and leaves behind a hollow choice.
And yet,we are not only this.
We are hands through rubble, wrist to wrist,
strangers giving strangers bread,
the ones who stayed when others fled.
We built the lullabies, the songs,
the right from all the endless wrongs.
A mother is a mother everywhere,
Her love is neither rich nor rare.
A child's small hand, a child's small face,
one warmth for every place.
So let this be a prayer, not a line,
a hope that outlasts space and time:
Let Gaza sleep. Let Kashmir wake,
Let Sudan heal. Let Ukraine shake.
the weight of war from every street,
Let Syria's children find their feet.
Let Yemen see a brighter day,
and every child, in every way.
matter as one. Not less. Not more,
Just human. Just as before.
Before the flags, before the land,
before the borders drawn by hand.
before our differences came to be,
We shared one name: Humanity.
And when the final tale is spun,
let no one ask what side had won.
Let them say, beneath the sun:
"At last, the world remembered,
how to hold,how to rise,
how to be human
not alone.Together.”
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2026
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