Saturday, May 2, 2020

Syria. 23.04.2020

The blast ripped the square apart
Its rippled through the state
It washed over the country of death
And my world was torn apart
I sat bruised and batter
Two children in my lap
Eight and ten, my sons
Killed by shrapnels 
Of an Unkown enemy
Why does not the world cringe
Why I sit with no tears, defeated
The deafening sound and the earth
Heaves spitting at heaven
Taking me up along with it
And my whole life gets buried
Under yet another pile of debris.

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