POETRY: The blast and the little boy…

Posted on by A. Rinum in Poetry

I don’t know if it was a dream
because it was something, I couldn’t believe.

I saw a boy with tears in his eyes
and fire burning his hope alive.

He quietly looked up and to God, he prayed
“please kill me once and not every day.”

I couldn’t watch so I ran and hugged him tight
I promised him it would be all right.

His fragile eyes looked into mine
his empty soul asked me “why?”

I had no answer to what he asked
he hugged me tight as we heard another blast.

We saw those people run as fast as they could
to get away from this rain of blood.

Shouts and screams now filled the air around
more bodies and guns fell to the ground.

Those people were broken, they had nowhere to go
they lost their dreams and now all their hope.

The little boy looked into my eyes and to me he said
“When will it stop, why won’t this end?
They burned my teachers and shot all my friends
they killed my dad and my mother’s now dead.
they tortured my brother until he couldn’t breathe
I just watched my sister beg on her knees.”

The little boy sobbed as tears rolled down his cheek
He choked on his words, as he tried to speak,
“I’m scared of those bullets and the bombs they hold
please tell them to stop so I could go back home
but why would you care, this isn’t your life
I’ll just tell God everything, and he’ll ask you why?”

He slowly moved back as bullets pierced through his head
he was right, no one helped him it was just all pretend.

He slowly faded away as I saw him smiling
“I’m already dead save someone else from dying
let go of your ego and don’t let pride come in your way
free these people let them live one more day
those leaders have power, they don’t care where you are
they divided you into groups and are making you fight their war
lend a hand, not to culture, religion or race
but to those people who have a past to erase.”

What he had said echoed somewhere in my mind?
Why were we killing if we wanted to survive?

Fire wasn’t on this land it was in those hearts
not another nation but humanity was burning apart.

Everything vanished and I knew it was a dream
but for the 10-year-old boy, it was real,
something I still couldn’t believe.

Picture: Pexels

Watch my video on youtube

Published by A. Rinum

I was born in Pakistan, and I moved to the US when I was four years old. From the rural villages of Pakistan to the buildings of New York. Come take a glimpse into my life.

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