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A story of an Iraqi baby
By: Ra’ed Al-Karmi
[This Poem was published in Attahaddi about two years ago. It tells the sad story of the children of Iraq. Read it, think about it and take action.]
Lift the embargo, Save the Children
To the people of the world
This is the story that must be told
Lying in her crib one star lit night
She lay there quietly touching her nose,
Oohing and cooing, so sweetly is she,
An angel is standing with her in the room.
The crib starts to shake and the mobile goes round.
The ceiling drops in, in a second or two ...
No one knows how long she lie there
Is she alive? Is she dead? Is she in any pain?
Her name is Amal. In English we say Hope.
Where is my mommy? I love her so dear
I'm scared and I'm hungry and I can't see my feet.
Where is my daddy? Where's my big brother?
How long have I been here? Is this just a dream?
That angel appears once again to my side,
Am I alone in my sufferings? No, there are many others.
Who are we? I ask you ... for what crime did we die?
Is it True? Am I nothing?! How could it be?
It is war they say, of which death is part.
Did someone say hero? To whom do they speak?
Why are they happy? Why are they proud?
No war has been won; No ifs, buts, or maybes,