Are You Still Alive?

 
i passed you on the street one day.

You stood in front of the rubble

Of your once beautiful house,

Your palms extended to the sky.

i sat with you at

Your child’s funeral tent.

We drank sweet tea, you told me

“Fares was the engine of our home.”

Just another boy,

Martyred in his bed.

i was with you, reaping

In the fields of Khouza.

i was with you in the Gaza sea,

The gunboats lit us up.

You called me brother.
You called me habibi.

i saw you on the battlefront,
a flower in your hair.

i was with you in the camp.

You had a message for America,

You said, “Tell your friends,

We are here in Gaza,

But we are not afraid.”

Mohammed, eight years old,

brave beyond his years.

Today, i saw a picture

Of a small blood soaked shoe.

And the Israeli occupiers

Are bombing homes again.

Today, i have but one

Question for you:

My friend,

Are you still alive?