Poem

I’m Sorry My Loves

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This piece is part of the On Palestine Collection.

The eyes have dried up and the heart bleeds tears, 
leaving a bloodbath in its wake

My dearest children and angels,
I’m sorry the world has failed every one of you 

I’m sorry you never had a chance at life
I’m sorry Mama and Baba never got the chance to name you

I’m sorry Mama couldn’t sing you a lullaby.
I’m sorry Baba didn’t come home to give you a hug and kiss goodnight. 
I’m sorry you never had the chance to play with the new toys Uncle and Auntie brought you. 

I’m sorry you never got to see the best of humanity
I’m sorry you had to become martyrs the day you were born
I’m sorry your childhood was snatched away by the cruel jaws of creation

I’m sorry for everything your beautiful little heart had to endure
I’m sorry the world was never good enough for you 
I’m sorry Mama and Baba couldn’t keep you above ground 
I’m sorry the eternal game of Death and Destruction laid siege at your doorstep 
before you had a chance at life 
I’m sorry for the painful pinch you endured during your final breaths
after having been bombed by Death

I’m sorry my loves,
I’m sorry for the backyard you never got to play in
I’m sorry for the house key Mama has around her neck,
knowing there’s no going back

I’m sorry the world was too weak to stand up to your oppressors
I’m sorry it was too full of impurities and devils that couldn’t bear the thought of letting you live

I’m sorry we were cogs in a machine that couldn’t protect you 
I’m sorry your brothers and sisters showing defiance and standing up to the enemy 
was not enough,
and is yet to yield results
I’m sorry, 
I’m sorry the world was hypocritical and unjust in its decisions of life and luck

I’m sorry my loves, 
I’m sorry you had to leave for your Eternal abodes so quickly
I’m sorry we never had the chance to pray at your grave 

I’m sorry the world never got to see all the potential you were created with
I’m sorry we never knew the truth of your existence 

Sleep tight my dearest children,
until we meet again, my dearest children,
in the shade of the Creator of Life and Death
And there, my loves, we’ll ask Him all the burning questions we never got answers to 
Yes, my loves, we’ll ask Him together for answers to every question

Mobeena Ghuman is an aspiring physician by day and a writer by any time she has a minute. She’s currently engaged in research that she hopes turns into something significant- InshaAllah. Based in the suburbs of New York, she sincerely hopes to overcome her fears and write a novel. While her workload rarely leaves her enough time to have a hobby, she considers reading and writing her favorite pastimes. Nothing beats a Harry Potter book with a cup of coffee, no matter how old you are (she has deluded herself into thinking she’ll find time someday to read the Lord of the Rings series too).

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