we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights

Broken leg, dancing spirit

Conditions in Gaza wear us down, but we always bounce back.
Basman Derawi
  • Gaza Strip
  • Diaspora
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Photo by Fadi Thabet

 

A young man holding an application
waits for another shop door to open

A dark-eyed child with crutches
sells balloons and his childhood.

An old woman with a cane
carries the ache of her lost son.

The hum of generators and drones
covers the rumble of empty bellies.           

The young man carries his certificates
and his dreams. He still dreams.

The child runs with his balloons,
laughing along the beach. He still laughs.

The old mother, remembering her son,
smiles at every boy. She still smiles.

The hum of drones cannot cover
the music of broken hearts that still sing.

 

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