GAZA

“Our freedom is incomplete without the freedom of the Palestinians.”
Nelson Mandela


I hear skeletons calling out
from the other side of a darkened room.
I will not sleep tonight.
There is another kind of war,
the war inside a man, where all wars begin.

Terror blooms in the ghettos of Palestine.
Children sleep with dust in their beds.
Their cries like the seeds of fish
are taken up into the clouds.
Rockets flare out of the Gaza strip.

The law has hooks for hands, it is not delicate,
it does not have a surgeon's touch.
It cuts and rips into the bone.
The dead fly over Israeli checkpoints,
out of the occupied territories.

The candles have been snuffed out
but the sorrow remains.
Children sleep with dust in their beds.
Their cries like the seeds of fish
are taken up into the clouds.


The Children of the Past

"Never war I am thinking of children who are deprived of the hope of a worthwhile life, a future."
Pope Francis

Am Cmaj7 Fmaj7 Em

We sailed on an ocean of regret
Until we found a land where we could forget

We see the flash of headlines in the sky

There are no more bargains left for us to buy

We hear a whistling in our heads
We are done sleeping in our beds

We hear a siren song that fills the air.
If you woke us we would fall

We once were the children of the future
We are now the children of the past

We sailed on an ocean of regret
Until we found a land where we could forget