Every time I let the tap run, I feel guilty

Every time I fill my belly, I turn away from the screen.

Every time the key clicks to my door, I can open and walk around.

But you and yours are raised to the ground.

No guilt from those who cheer on your genocide.  

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Everyday someone is Killed on your street. . .

No one says or does anything to help . . .

It’s not your street. . .

But everyday someone is killed on a Gaza Street   

A human being  just like you and me

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Dreaming of leaving

       This rock above my

             Head

Dreaming of leaving

The thought you are dead

Dreaming of leaving

Going back to when I

played here, running up

the path mama mama

kissing your sweet forehead

now motionless and

       cold

Dreaming of leaving

                                 Not wishing to go

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And so it goes

On

People protest

Against dead bodies

“They’re all terrorists

each and every one”

He says, they say

And so it goes on

The people are lost

Picking through rubble

Discovering their loved ones

Dead clothes

But the truth is being hidden

Sanitised by the news

The killing is not so awful

They plead

And so...

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Death is

R

O

P

P

I

N

G

From the skies

     L  lies  lifeless

     O on

 E V ery

Str E et

Death is

R

O

P

P

I

N

G

From the sky

Bodies mount up

1.500 here…

1.500 there…

L

         O

                 V

                          E

                                  Lies in ruins…

    ...

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