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A question from the refugee camps

By : Amirah Al Wassif

I asked them
How the sun says hello to everyone ?
Then, they laughed bitterly
Without being sorry
And told me “ask the gun”
Her red spark
Sharp like a dark
Permits entering the light for none
They asked me ” what is the sun”?
When our expected meeting will be done?
Since their question
I did not ask again
Cause everything was very clear
Through the war stain
There, in the Somali lands you can find the answers
Upon the clouds , in the camps even on the children features
There, in the Somali lands all the details written with no ink
The only truth here required from you to think
About those people who do not have the fun
But you still ask about their sun ?
Among the refugee camps in Baidoa
I found a baby crawled
On the arm of his mama
Who seemed to me frowned
The baby opened his eyes widely
Looking for the next light
But his mama knows
No light comes with fight
In a crowd of the lost African bodies
He hold my hand tenderly
He was selling water to the ladies
were sitting on the docks
With their pots
Waiting for the day- early
In the Somali lands
They asked me
How the sun says hello to everyone?
Then, I replied with no hesitation
No sun comes with a gun



    Minors are those less than eighteen, As they don’t have knowledge in keen.

    They don’t have a driving licence, As don’t have driving sense.

    Minors are given just pen and page, Their life is not more than a cage.

    Holiday is not given even on sundays, As their age is negligible for fundays.

    Parents are worried not to get blame, From minors they just want their fame.

    Circumstances are same for every minor, Parents are just their life designer. -*Sahaj Sabharwal.* * -Chowk Chabutra, * * -Jammu. * * -11th Class.* ©sahajsabharwal Delhi Public School, Jammu #India #Poem #Jammu #sahajsabharwal12345 #DelhiPublicSchool #DpsJammu #copyright #INDIA #TALENTPOET

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