And,

Yes,

That’s the last thing that flashed into my memory.

The last thing I saw before I dissolved into nothingness.

I lost myself in a daydream.

Do you remember that Ferris wheel?

Gleaming with red and yellow colourful lights against the dark canopy of the night?

The first and last time the carnival came to the streets of Baghdad.

Fireflies ignited lives.

…

To my unborn child,

Resting in the womb.

Precious:

They shot your daddy in the head.

Now,

Innocent blood will fill the streets.

Sweet mercy sing the midnight praises.

And you, my angel will cry.

I remember your rhythmic heartbeat; my ears heard your life.

I won’t get to see your face.

I won’t get to sing your praise.

I won’t get to hold you close.

I won’t get to explain your worth.

I won’t feel your small hands upon mine.

I won’t get to watch your fumbling steps.

I won’t get to hear your beautiful cry.

I won’t get to watch your face light up at the coming of a sunset.

Wont play peek-a-boo with you darling.

There won’t be sweet lullabies.

…

But I am certain, my angel you will cry.

I wish I could hold you close and dry those eyes.

You are a star light beaming so bright in this hell we call life.

Don’t ever lose your way.

Because you are an embankment of love.

The true essence of hope.

The reason I will live on.

Daddy will be with you, always.

…

The rivers are stained with the moons tears.

And the flowers are sad yet they feel it is their duty to blossom gallantly.

The leaves don’t rustle their silent tune.

The sun mourns; it’s defeated by dark rain clouds.

The earth mourns the loss of love.

I want to live, like the strings on a guitar that wants to be strung.

But there is no music.

There is no more air.

…

Don’t ever doubt that daddy didn’t love you.

Daddy was killed because hate is a cruel thing.

And it drives people to do crazy things.

Like killing innocent people who look a certain way.

My life existed only to be misinterpreted.

But please don’t erase my memory.

Can’t you see baby, my dreams are now etched on your palms.

Stay strong for daddy.

…

My angel, remember to look towards the sky sometimes and show me your blessed face.

Heaven knows I was right; you have your mother’s eyes and my hair.

I’m sorry, I was taken away.

If I had even a minute to spend it would be with you.

Stars twinkle, on the dark canvas of the night.

They say death is but a mere melody waiting to be sung.

They say our fingerprints don’t fade from the lives we touch.

So remember me.

And hush now baby,

Sleep tight,

Listen to your mama,

Only God is by your side.

…

And,

Yes,

That’s the last thing that flashed into my memory.

The last thing I saw before I dissolved into nothingness.

I lost myself in a daydream.

It was the Ferris wheel, turning slowly.

Taking its time as if it was savoring every moment.

Every precious millisecond of life.

They say love saves all.

My angel:

You are loved.

Rest in the womb.

Let love stroke your life.

I love you.

I hope it echoes for eternity.

Author: Sarah Usmani

I’m a war child.
That’s right a war child,
Just because the media makes believe that for myself I can’t speak,
Don’t pretend like you can’t hear me,
Don’t make me repeat my misery,
I’m a war child,
Yeah you heard me,
A war child.

Because of the soldiers’ machine gun playing my loud nightly lullaby,
I may not sleep at night,
But I tell you I dream,
I dream with my eyes open wide.
I dream that if tonight with God’s might I may survive,
Tomorrow I’ll look for a safer place for my siblings to hide.

You see I’m the oldest and I’m nine.
And well the youngest, she’s two,
A little too busy to have any trouble on her little mind.

Because for her the red paint,
The teary eyes,
And the loud noises,
Are all just a little punishment for the naughty kids who refuse to sleep at night.
This for her is normal life,
The life she believes all two year olds live world wide.
The life of a war child.

I’ve heard of children being bullied,
For being too fat or too skinny.
But that doesn’t happen in this town of peace,
Here, all children play in unity.
They play games that won’t lead to brain washing or all those other controversies,
Rather they get together at day time to compare who collected the most treats,
Small, big, few or many purple blue treats,
Stamped on their bodies and skins that burn in the scorching heat,
Dry, blue and flaky.
They all also have skinny limbs and inflated bellies,
Not because their parents fed them with goodies,
But because they suffer from all sorts of deficiencies.

This is bravery,
The bravery failed to be demonstrated by all these apparent peace making authorities.
Welcome to reality.
The reality you’ll never see on T.V.,
Or hear of in the speeches of presidents from the most powerful countries.

The presidents who sleep in their cosy beds,
And enjoy the comfort of various electrical facilities.

You see when the sun goes down in this town,
Explosions and screams are the only audible sound,
And the only light we see,
Is that of burning tires and bodies.

And there you are complaining about a power failure that lasted an hour or three.
I guess it’s only fair,
Since I deserve no rights or freedom being a citizen of a third world country.

The country with a high rate of infant casualties,
And escalating child labor rate speaking statistically.
Here the worst news for a family could be that of a pregnancy,
This child if born, would be abused,
Mentally,
Physically,
And sexually,
Regardless of its gender, strength, and capabilities.
This child will be orphaned sooner or later,
He’ll work for companies and factories as a toddler,
To provide his dying loved ones with bread and water,
And if he dares to speak,
He’ll be labeled as a traitor,
And get sent off to prison later.

But hey, don’t worry,
Don’t bother helping me,
Don’t make use of your freedom of speech.
You’ve got your shiny cars and money,
Why care about me?
I’m just a war child,
On me don’t waste your time,
I’ll be just fine.