Who am I?
A little child
Survived an attack since it was mild
Looked to the sky and again I smiled
Corpses of loved ones before me piled
Thought of running into the wild
But Alas! I’m such a naive child
I stood there as the shrapnels beguiled
Tossing their heads they reconciled
Stuck in the realm of hate and pride
The world goes on as it is styled
Who will care for the little bride
Who mourns and looks for a place to hide
Like others before, her luck she tried
There was a petition that once she filed
But what they did was only chide
Since no one really is on our side
There were so many who only died
A handful now can be identified
Came again then gases of toxic chloride
And countless again were mortified
Through their blood world purified
Who am I you testified
Hey my friend you horrified?
Oh no, this ain’t a genocide
Since all your acts are justified
My rants are all disqualified
For I’m a Syrian petrified!
I sit here and sip my coffee as I write about the Syrian crisis for luckily just like you, I’m not a Syrian petrified!