“Where is my daughter?”
The mother asks,
Not knowing that her daughter
Couldn’t survive the blast.
She screams and shouts as the nurse tells her she died.
She grabs the nurses hand, “why did I survive!”
Her pain could not be felt,
The images haunt her soul,
When she told her daughter “it’s late,
We should go home”
But her daughter wanted to stay,
She wanted another go
On the ‘merry go round’.
Her mother couldn’t say no.
That is when it happened.
The brutality began,
Nothing left but blood and bodies,
Nothing heard but shouts and chants.
These heartless people that kill and die
Have no idea that their theory is a lie.
Destroying families and killing children
Is no where written in any book,
Of any religion.
Ammar Butt (20th century) Pakistan
Source: Poetry Against Terror
Thank you for this
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