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Rated: · Article · Political · #1726659
Gaza, innocent
    Sitting aimlessly on the ground beside her frantic father of  a fifty year old emaciated body, her chin is resting on her hand,  gazing gloomily at  the house rubbles through eyes glistening with tears, a nearly nine year- young flower was bidding good bye to her lovely past six springs. Her room was housed by warmth and comfort wherein she used to have enjoyable  time of  drawing  and coloring beautiful dreams out of her little heart; very remote from a thought of being homeless who sleeps rough waiting for the UNRWA aid to compensate for the loss of his own house.   

Her much-loved teddy, for which she gave a great care, will be no longer lying in a small enveloped box, decorated with stars and asterisks. It is for, simply, the house turned into tiny pieces of stones by the huge number of rockets relentlessly launched by the Israeli F16 that left nothing.

She is one of tens of Palestinian children who experience time and again with such grisly misery; entirely demolished house, injured brother, losing one or the whole family, or all these distresses at once.

  They are the children of Palestine, born, raised, and taught amid the roar of Abatchi helicopters,

amid the sounds of resounding bombs,

amid the redness of honorable blood,

amid the groans of the bereaved,

amid the screams of the protesters,

amid the wills of the martyrs

    Many of them are becoming traumatized; still living in the ruins of the war, in a deplorable life......  it is almost too great to contemplate; chills you to the bone.

But they are children, having benign hearts, having pure spirits, having awaiting future of decent life, dreams of love and roses; calm and safety.

They are sparrows, with soulful expressions of blamelessness and compassion, with small bodies, innocent faces,  glittering eyes, and sugary voices, hunted and gunned down by the Israeli  hubris in cold blood while the so-called peace lovers look heartlessly at them, cling with never- ending fruitless gamble.


By: Somia Ibrahim  Abu-Tailakh

© Copyright 2010 Somia I. Abu-Tailakh (somia2007 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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