A poem for my unfortunate friends...

I swim with Mommy and Dadda on Mondays,
Bowling nights with my family are always on Tuesdays,
I hang out with Tok Mama and Tok Abah on Wednesdays,
Spend precious times with Mommy and Dadda on Thursdays,

Fridays are always 'free and easy',
Snuggle between Mommy and Dadda, getting cozy,
Weekends are spent with brothers and sisters of Dadda,
How about you, my fellow friends in Gaza?

Mondays, Tuesdays, everyday including Sundays,
You scream, cry and in fear, always?
Bombs, shootings, groanings and shouts
Are what you hear around you, so loud?

Where are your families, Daddas and Mommies?
They've been shot and killed by the armies?
So who's going to look after you now?
You have to be fed by someone, somehow.

Don't be sad, my fellow friends in Gaza,
Your Mommy and Dadda are in heaven with Allah.
I'm sure it's sad to have no one at all,
If it were me, I'd definitely bawl.



You don't understand what you did wrong,
To face the world, you now have to be strong.
My family and I will always pray for you,
To finally have a peaceful and happy life too.

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