A child, a small child,
Roams around his yard, for a little while,
Till he hears the wail of the siren,
Too late now, he’s killed by shards of iron.
Ten rockets launched , but only one Jewish kid is dead.
His folks vow vengeance and war lies ahead.
A child, a small child,
Roams around his neighborhood, for a little while,
When with a whoosh his world explodes,
He wakes up in hospital, with a melted nose.
His parents dead, it was collateral damage,
They were in the wrong neighborhood,
so the story goes.
One more Arab kid, scarred for life,
One more statistic added to the score.
His career options on growing up are just two-
Suicide Bomber or fight with a rifle too.
A child, one more little child,
Looks up to the blue skies,
From where rockets and tank shells come.
God he cries out, or Gods (who ever is there)
Before the sons of Abraham
and the sons of Arabs,
finish each other ,
I am the son of Adam and Eve,
their common mother.
Take me please,
Far away from this place.
I want to grow up in some happy place,
where no one thinks I am a Jew or an Arab
Just a small kid, who needs some love.
((Image from http://www.stolenchildhood.net/page/3/))
Ajay – I don’t know how to analyze non quantitative things like Politics. As Gandhi once said , An eye for an eye will lead to a world of the blind.
Kids deserve to play.
DECISION STATS 