we are not numbers

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

Palestine landscape

The forgotten high life

We wish to go back to hide and seek / And play with kids whose names we didn’t even know.
Palestine landscape
Photo by Osama Silwadi

A time where life was always unique —
We wish to go back to hide and seek —
And play with kids whose names we didn’t even know.

But now nothing is the same —
Our hearts grew darker to embrace the change —
And life gave us winters without snow.

We were young —
Every day chasing the fun —
And the world’s shadows adored our glow.

We were kids, simple as-is —
On swings and slides we’d call dibs —
And to every newcomer we’d say “hello.”

Nothing could ruin the good in us —
We didn’t care who we were —
we could be everything all at once.

Not the color of our skin,
nor the seed of our kin,
could dim our little sinless lights —

Our language was laughter,
our hearts were masters,
of carrying sunshine through lows and highs —

We miss the safety of the playground —
The mountain tops in my hometown —
Memories seem so distant yet not long ago.

 

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