we are not numbers

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

mother and child

Tears of gold

I found a love, given for free.I never really had to search...

mother and childI found a love, given for free.
I never really had to search,
She stood right there beside me
And waited at the end of every road.

She held my hand so I wouldn’t fall
And knelt to level her eyes with mine.
She stayed awake to rest my eyes.
I called her name, always first.

At times she could be hard,
Her angry eyes open wide,
Her lips pressed in a straight line,
And her face a dark red rose.

Her love is everywhere I go,
In my clothes she neatly folds
In her hands and heavenly food,
Even in her scolding voice.

Now, mother, just hold my hand.
I’ll lift you up as high as I can
And make you the crown on my head
For all the golden tears you’ve shed.

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