Peace Be Unto Aleppo Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

I am not Aleppo bound,
But after seeing Omram,
I feel the need to say,
I feel forthe world,
When children die under,
So much rubble caused
By bombs of people old,
Who cannot talk and agree,
To end this war.

I sit and grieve and see,
People fleeing in all,
Directions where the world,
Is standing looking on and,
Doing the least it can and,
Know I am the world too,
And equally an onlooker.

This destruction of things,
Build by hands cannot destroy,
The depth of life but it does,
Have Omram rubbing his eyes,
For he came out of this rubble.

I feel the orphan holding,
A hand under the rubble,
His mother gone. Her hand
is cold and yet the little
One holds, and comes out
With no limbs to walk,
Even when found.

Could life talk back,
Andtell the world,
What is to be done,
Where people die,
And never know what
Life is like, when
Breathed under skies,
Where bombs don't
Rumble and throw up
Rubble, that makes hands
Fumble listening to voices,
Mumble, in the darkness of the
Tumble, that has them
Gamble, if they will live or die.
For life has been tossed up,
Like a die to land on
The number four, which means
You win, and then get out
Alive.

We say peace be unto Aleppo,
For what else is there to do,
Than pray to the powers of our
World, to stop fueling this fight,
That has never stopped; for I
Was born and knew of Beirut,
And now of Aleppo, and thus
Wonder why there is never peace,
In this part of the world, where
We all fumble, tumble, into rubble
And gamble with the lives of others.