Listen to Him

Hundala turned his back,-

A Middle Eastern Banksy

Who stood for peace

And got the grave.


If only we could have

seen his face.


This is still going on:

Our families


At the simple strokes of a pen.


An old lady is crying

Because her grandson is dead.

The old lady is shouting “Allah!”

I wanted to see him growing,

To see him dedicated to a profession,

To see him a husband,

To see him raise his children…


All of this a waste.


Bloody kids lay,

On bloody floors;

Many of them are dead.

Others are dying.

Let’s be honest…

The doctors,

Have no tools

And have no resources

So, they give them at most an hour.


We all pray.

Pray that they will live,

Pray that they will have…



But, as they die,

They only leave behind

Scattered leaves from olive trees that

Are soaking in

Blood soaking in soil…


If only there was peace!


This poem is about: 
My country


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741