Sirs, the gunfire are getting closer,
the screams are getting louder.
Sirs, my sisters and I are cowering,
under our dining table we are shivering.
Sirs, our playground and school are smashed,
as your tanks through them have crashed.
Sirs, you said we fired missiles at your homes,
actually we are too young to tie our shoelaces alone.
Sirs, we at night often hear our mother crying,
no food, no education, no hope she is sighing.
Sirs, we are scared when papa arrives home insulted,
working your factories; at your roadblocks humiliated.
Sirs, you say our God is terrorism and fanaticism,
that our family and our life is all one fatalism.
Sirs, you said your God is love, hope and light,
but so far we see Him teaching might is right.
Sirs, we are the victims not the aggressors,
do not punish us for the actions of our oppressors,
Sirs, have you no mercy as your bombers dive,
no threat to you I will die before I am five.
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