In a small house on Rafah’s ground,
A child sat gently sharing life’s round,
At the dining table, he sat like a dream,
In his eyes, a glimmer of hope and gleam.
Years of hunger and deprivation’s toll,
A dry piece of bread, his soul consoled,
He hoped for a morsel, a simple delight,
But fate brought a dark and different night.
Lived hungry, died hungry, life’s cruel embrace,
No moment of fullness, no saving grace,
On his last day, a tear in his eye,
In his mouth, remnants of bread so dry.
Killed by the occupation, an innocent life,
Left joy in his eyes fading, filled with strife,
Gone to tell the story of a little boy,
Who dreamed of a better tomorrow, a life of joy.
At the dining table, he became a martyr,
In his eyes, a tear, narrating the pain,
Died with dry bread in his mouth,
Hoping for a bite, but departed south.
O child of Gaza, symbol of sacrifice,
Your spirit soars in the eternal skies,
You have gone but are never forgotten,
In our hearts and souls, your light has risen.
O world that sees and remains still,
A child from Gaza has left, will you fulfill?
We tell his story to every living conscience,
May it awaken, may it find its essence
