GC Poetry: Sore // Youssef Al-Shanti.

Tanks and plains.
Cages and chains.
Fear, death, and blood stains.

A little voice rises from the smoke.
It was crying of anger.
It was crying provoke.

A bullet takes off.
A father dies.
On the rubble.
A son cries.
Family trouble.
A bullet lands.

Even though he is dead.
They will never be apart.
Weeping late night, no bed.
The father is always alive in the son’s heart.

Taken, put in a jail cell.
No classes.
No school bell.
No fear.
Only hate.
No cheer.
Too late.