A Poem of a Palestinian Child

Don’t cry now, Ummi (Mother), don’t cry—rest now, sleep,
It’s over, Ummi (Mother), no more pain, no more grief.
I see the fear in your eyes, wondering what will become of me,
But don’t worry, Ummi (Mother), Allah will watch over me.

I dreamed of building you a home, where we’d live happily,
I dreamed of taking you to Hajj, standing strong on my own two feet.
But those dreams are ashes now, scattered, never to be,
My heart shatters, Ummi (Mother), at the thought of you leaving me.

O’ my beloved Ummi (Mother), how will I bear your absence?
My world is torn apart—pain, turmoil, agony immense.
Our lives mean nothing to them; they hate us relentlessly,
But why does no one stop them? Why is the world so silent, so free?

Why does no one help us, Ummi (Mother)? Why does no one see?
Don’t they know we live in terror, haunted by this enemy?
I lose myself in thought, wondering what we’ve done to deserve this fate,
Why do they want to see us broken, our blood spilled in hate?

The day we wait for feels distant, as if time itself has ceased,
When will the bloodshed end? When will we know peace?
But remember, Ummi (Mother), our blood is not wasted—we die as Shaheed (Martyrs),
They may take our lives, but our souls will always be free.

So let them beat me, starve me, cut me until I bleed,
My soul will never bow to them—I’m a slave to the Almighty.