So, if you want to really know,
what a mother’s agonised scream sounds like,
take a walk in Gaza today,
she will bear her broken heart,
as she bore the coffin that held her 11 month old child’s body,
as it lay lifelessly broken and torn apart.
The mother screams in anger and in pain,
her howls and shrieks echo on the bloodied plain,
so take a walk in Gaza today,
and feel the rage that a mother nurses,
and bear the brunt of a mother’s curses.
You see, she laid her little baby in the cold, blood-soaked ground,
while you diplomats and peacemakers and politicians were buzzing around,
so stop buzzing,
and take a walk in Gaza today,
and for once,
for once,
listen to what a mother has to say,
“they’ve rained down death on us for years,
they’ve torched our olive groves while you have shut your collective ears,
they’ve killed our children over and over and over again,
and we’ve cried oceans of tears that have disappeared down the drain,
so tell me as I cradle my dead baby in my hand,
who gives a damn?”.
This is what you will hear when you walk in Gaza today.
It is what you have heard for years and years now,
and all I can think as I write these words is ‘how?’,
how could you fail,
you peacemakers and diplomats and politicians,
how could you fail the mothers of Gaza,
over and over and over again,
is it because Gaza’s mothers’ tears are forgotten,
because they simply disappear down the drain.
And how can you not stem that ocean of tears,
cried by countless mothers,
and fathers,
and children whose eyes are blinded by inexpressible pain,
and whose days are haunted, not by phantoms,
but by living fears.
So can you take a walk in Gaza today?
and what possibly could you have to say?
to the numberless mothers who have cried oceans of tears,
again and again and again,
or are Gaza’s mothers’ tears forgotten,
because they simply disappear down the drain.
(for the people of Gaza and the Occupied Territories)
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