Poem 16 · Day
When?
When will I watch them
destroy my home
and hear that my parents
passed away
mistaken for armed fighters —
their bodies scattered
on the streets of Beirut
When will I witness my high school leveled
because they said
rockets were hidden
under the desks of students
or between the books
in our library
When will I watch my neighbours wail
hands over their heads
kneeling over the rubble
where their whole family
lies buried
They said if a tree falls in a forest,
and no one is there to hear it —
has it made a sound?
But if a building falls in Beirut, or Gaza,
and we all watch it crumble —
was there even a crime?
Or is it because we are of this land,
that it's ok to watch us die?
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