Like a worm, caterpillar, I crawl
Ring by ring move forward
Underneath; deep in sea
Miles and miles
I’m lucky.
I can shout
I exhale my pain out
Surface is, deaf; blind.
Ay people in Kuwait
Wedding of grandson’s
And the ones, at London’s hospital
Jet planes fly low; fly high
Carry arms; drop bombs and climb.
Ay people in wedding
Ay people in waiting
For seeing grandkids
The bombers break laws
Bombing kills in Yemen,
Poor people, defenceless.
They shatter ceilings, walls.
Leave behind pain and hate
And wounded; and the dead.
Isn’t this holocaust?
Isn’t this genocide?
Where are the journalists?
Where are the humanists?
I am not one of you
You are dumb, brainwashed
Or bastards, with a hand in crime,
Don’t take side, doing so is a shame.
I’m shouting at seabed.
You are kept at surface.
Do not wait for reflect
Must dive deep, go under.
Let us help save wounded.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem