It was cold when I woke up this morning on the street
With bitter cold wind freezing my face, my hands and my feet
‘You’re finally awake, good morning!’ she said
Greeting me as if I had just gotten out of bed
‘We have new toys today.’
She ironically continued calling out for me to play
We play with bullets and we play with bombs
While other kids play with real toys in their homes
We have no homes, no schools, just streets that are painted red
A sentence that she often said
And hearing it I would always dread
However it was true, because after all both our parents were dead
But through it all, we laughed and we played
Until it came that dreaded time of day
When we all had to run away
They hid behind their fortresses and guns
And killed everyone, old and young
Until there were none
We watched in silence and in fear
Waiting for them to disappear
The man in the helmet turned and vacantly stared
At me, as if I was no more than air
He then turned and vanished as if he was never there
As quickly as it had started it finally stopped
And with the sound of the last gunshot my heart dropped
I walked down the street trying to ignore the bodies and the blood
Looking for her, looking ahead
All the time hoping I wouldn’t see the body I prayed I would never have to see
The one I then saw lying right in front of me
She’d disappeared for a moment when I turned my head
And now she is dead
I cried as I roamed the streets all alone
Where, oh God, where is home?
She was my best friend, my family and my all
She made me feel safe in a time of war
In a country that was no longer mine, I stood on my own
Wondering where is my home?
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