The Little Toddler Poem by Mohammad Younus

The Little Toddler

The little toddler crawls to the window,
He dares sodiers with a raised fist,
No music he hears but the mortars' noise,
Bomb shells and bullet shells are his only toys,
No other toys can his mother find,
To lure him away from the shooter's gun,
And the louder she wails, the deeper he breathes,
He seethes with a desire to fight,
When he turns into a youngboy,
'T is vain to tell him the stories of
death and destruction,
In consequence of resisting and revolting against occupation -
He 'll say there can't be more of fear and pain,
In any bloody story than is inscribed,
On the blood-spattered faces of my people,
I must spend my life trying to stop the blood hounds,
I must stand and fight against genocide ideology,
I must accomplish what you could not accomplish,
I must stand, resist, and fight for freedom,
Till the last soldier of colonizer's army vacates my land,
I know freedom is never free of cost -
Mother's kisses, father's hugs, brothers' cries, sisters' singing elegies -
When I am stretched on martyr's bed,
Mother! I want to die for peace, and live in peace,
Mother! I am a pacifist at heart, I believe in peace,
But! I have been pushed to the wall.

Mykoul