starless skies

Baby fist in rubble Gaza (Photo source @khaledbeydoun on Instagram)

they call it a war
smoked clouds covering the gone sun
and the gone son
who looked for pulsating stars but found none

a child of seven holds up a rock to a tank
the imbalance of defence
the cosmic dance and descent
of a father carrying his son in bags
the fortunate one drawing his from rubble

burning buildings books and bones
home after generational home
yet a mother’s silent cry still reeks of hope
while the baby one day old receives his death certificate first

the right to defend itself for seventy-five years
from toddler terrorists
holding their land like they’re holding a dream

tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tock
count to ten another one to the unseen stars
with jutted bones and an ashy face
children remain children in Gaza

please. show me both their militaries
one has no home, no fuel, no electricity
one has it all but no gluten-free bread

when they ask you to choose a side

don’t call this a war
and don’t call them dead

Afaf Ghazi is a Journalism and Creative Writing student at Trent University and Durham College in Ontario, Canada. She is passionate about social justice and wrote this poem as a part of her coursework of the Advanced Seminar in Creative Writing at Trent University. Read other articles by Afaf.