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on 16-07-2002 21:17
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Published in : , Poems |
By Hadeel Khater
He bowed to Allah right in front of them and kissed his own solid land
The rock is his only weapon and that’s all he held in his tiny hand
He suddenly jumped up, flung it quickly and spoke for his last time:
“Allah is greatest, this is my land, and get out of the holy shrine!”
All they did was laugh and snore as if there was no tomorrow
The triggers were pulled, he fell down hard and his mother looked at his body in sorrow
After that incident, what overcame their faces nothing close to guilt and sorrow
They didn’t even look at the mother who cried in such terror
Killing a child? Is that what they call brave?
Though many lives of children they did save!
Under the olive tree is where his body last laid
I wish the olive tree would be kind enough to cover him with its shade
Never again will the young and beautiful face shine
But I hope children follow in his footsteps and try to free Palestine
Last update : 16-07-2002 21:17
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