In The Eyes of a Child

In The Eyes of a Child

The taste of copper

Tickles the tip of her

Split dry tongue

☢️💀🔥

As he lay

On his back and stomach

Simultaneously

☢️💀🔥

Silently screaming

At the top of his lungs

Stunned

☢️💀🔥

Their eyes shift

Sifting through the

Contents of the room

Violently dislodged

☢️💀🔥

An orchestra of pain

Erupts all around

Shrieks fading away

Rubble breaking underfoot

☢️💀🔥

Glass shattering, falling

In the poisoned dust

☢️💀🔥

Another drone strike

In the distance

There’s no such thing as bedridden

☢️💀🔥

When there are

No beds left

K.B.Silver

⛰️🕊️🌊⛰️🕊️🌊⛰️🕊️🌊⛰️🕊️🌊⛰️🕊️🌊⛰️🕊️🌊⛰️🕊️🌊

This was originally posted in January 2024, a year and a half ago, and if you look at the news today, nothing has improved; the situation continues to worsen. There are short periods of false respite that quickly devolve into slaughter again. Despite the title I chose, there is no war in Gaza. There is no Palestinian army fighting the Israeli army; they have no weapons, and there is no battlefield. A captive population is being starved and bombed to death, and we are all witnessing it happen.

I have no idea how to make it stop. I have shared and written publicly available poetry and letters to the US government. I have donated directly to families and to the IRC, hoping that some might be able to escape and others might receive aid inside. Like the rest of you, I am lost in grief and despair that no matter how many and how loudly we cry out, the just action we call for is left undone.