The massacre was committed too early this morning,
maybe at 3am,
and most people missed their 6am trains
to watch the blood and the tears.
My homeland is a pack of matchsticks.
We're the matchsticks,
burning nothing but ourselves, one by
one. My homeland is a wound
and this wound is frightening and
the murderer who woke too early this morning
keeps rubbing its edges with salt and
We watch Soher, the sweetest three year old in
the neighborhood, being brought out
of the debris.
Her clothes are torn, her face holds only one
expression that screams "why".
Soher had brown, bright eyes
and curly hair and soft skin.
Soher had tiny fingers that smelt of cake
and life, that she used to bite when her teeth
Soher had tiny fingers that liked squeezing
fluffy things, and holding biscuits
and grabbing her mommys hair.
Soher had tiny fingers that crippled when
the iron smashed her ribcage.
we're not going to burn incense or
recite psalms or glorify the souls of saints.
We won't be offering our condolences
to the mother of the girl,
who had brown, bright eyes
and curly hair and soft skin,
who was buried
without any ceremonies.
I feel this poem is aching with not only the story being told throughout, but also within the message it sends out by the end. What the author has cleverly done is to take the reader through the traumatic event of a young child's passing, taking you into vivid details whilst really describing the child themselves so that you can begin to feel an attachment to them. An image is built up in your mind of a young heart of innocence, and then it is sadly taken away. After doing so, the author then ends the poem with a powerful statement of truth, which leaves the reader in deep thought about the ways of the world today and just how often these tragedies are occurring. A very gripping poem, the reality of the unfairness and often selfish acts in life is evident here and has been very well portrayed.
For starters let me say this... The title made me cry and I didn't even read the poem yet.
I have to stay focused while writing this comment because no human alive can't help but be affected by this poem so I'm going to talk about the writing brilliance of the author and technical aspects of the poem only, because the message speaks for itself and in my opinion, the author is speaking for all the "Soher's" of the world. I am in tears writing this comment. - Noura you are a writing voice of the human soul, I applaud you!
Noura crafted a remarkable piece here, using word descriptions in detail, repetition and grace. What an amazingly written piece of brilliance! - What can I say... 10! 10! 10! - Enough said.
I love the title, first of all. It gave me that "here-we-go-again" vibe. This just breaks my heart, it's so horrific yet so beautifully written. The way you described Soher, with such detail. The way you remembered her makes me feel as if I knew her, too. What breaks my heart even more is the fact that you've seen this so much that you've become numb to it, in a way. It seems like such a common thing to watch these things, that it doesnt even bother you. That's that makes your work so heart breaking. <3