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Friday 22 April 2011


Pebble of Palestine
By Imran Ali

I was once happy...
You might question this.
A pebble, happy?
How can it be?
Yet, its hard to see,
If you could witness me,
Now...

I once had a home.
A home within the Holy Land,
My home was within a hand.
The hand of a young boy,
My best friend...
He found me in darkness,
From the cold, I escaped.
To the light of a landscape,
So pure, so sacred.
We were never seperated,
I went with him, everywhere.
Day after day we played,
Into the air he threw me.
Everytime a little higher,
Everytime my view was brighter.
The Sun blessed us with happy days,
But my warmth came from him.
He held me tight and close,
No toys to play, just me, I lay,
In the palm of an innocent child's hand.

One morning...
An hour before dawn.
He woke up suddenly,
I stay firm in his grasp.
A noise thundered through,
To the door he flew,
To see what was the source.
Mother... Father...
They lay in a puddle,
A pool of red, rippling blood.
Above them is a man,
His gun, pointed precise,
At us...
My friend, with tears in his eyes,
And pain in his heart.
Threw me at the enemy.
I flew passed and through the window,
Spinning and gaining speed.
Every turn, I looked back,
To see my family moving away.
The roar of the gun shot echoed,
As my friend fell out out of sight.

I landed in a playground,
A familiar one to me.
I remember the singing and chanting.
The playing and laughing.
But now, a decrepit place.
Blood taints the walls,
Bodies litter the ground.
Bodies of children lay,
Without a sound...

The horror grew further away,
As I was kicked down the street.
The street desolated as I passed.
Buildings of peace and love,
Crumble with families beneath.
Pain attacks my surface,
As I slide on the ground.
What once was smooth and warm,
Now rough with mothers upon.
Crying over corpses,
Of their children,
Husbands, parents and more.
Crying in hysteria,
Left to mourn...
All before dawn...
I could see the light of the Sun,
The day had nearly begun,
As I witness what has been done.
The warmth of the light vanished,
So suddenly...

That's how helpless I am,
I cannot die like my friends,
Only be left to share their agony.
Oh how I wish this would end.
So that I would feel proud to say,
That all my friends are alive.
Our city will remain to shine.
I have a home to call mine.
I am a Pebble of Palestine.

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