A Syrian Petrified

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!

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