Palestine - The Truth Uncovered
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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