Like the children of this town who
wake up to see the moon scurrying
in the sky to avoid being stained with blood.
Children whose eyes have known the tradition of
shedding tears after a shimmering sound of guns.
Children whose hearts beat in fear at a blast of bombs.
Children who grapple the death and curse the roads
that swallow their parents on their way home.
Children who are aware of the demise of laws and
the rebirth of the injustice in their hometowns.
Children who become aliens in the lands that they
call their mother. No lullaby for boys in the twilight
Except for stillness and shushes after a knock
on the entrance door. Children who dare not to
cry for candy on the streets because people
wear despair on their faces like a mask. Hostility
clouds their minds like a storm ready to fall.
Children who find their way to highways, lobbying
with nature to survive in life.