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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