Asiya is a schoolgirl.
She is also now blind.
An Israeli bomb
fired on Gaza
hit her schoolyard
and flying shrapnel
struck both her eyes.
But now unable to see,
she still has vision.
“I want my
Palestinian people
to be free,” Asiya says.
“I want us to be able
to live in our land
safe from bombs
and terror.
I want all peoples
to live in peace.
I do not hate the
Israelis personally,
but I hate
what the Israelis
have done to me,
what they have done
to my people.”
Far away from
Asiya’s school,
Israeli generals
pore over maps,
view aerial photographs,
study charts
and logistics lists;
they look at the
photos of the
demolished buildings
and the piles of corpses,
but do not see
what were once
living human beings
who reared children,
cared for neighbors,
tried to scrounge
enough to eat.
All these generals have
perfect sight;
they see clearly,
yet have no vision.
They are all
more blind than Asiya.
YOU ARE READING
Palestine
PoetryHere,where the hills slope before the sunset and the chasm of time near gardens whose shades have been cast aside, we do what prisoners do we do what the jobless do, we saw HOPE. A bunch of poems about our beloved Palestine.
