And when their father lay dead on the street
4, 5, 6 bullets deep inside his chest
they had no time to grieve or weep
for they too could be next.
With their mother already dead
from the last attack
a bullet to the head
the two young boys had not choice
but to become men instead.
Nowhere to refuge and nowhere to hide
they ran from their family home
hoping that Allah was by their side.
One moonless night
in their sleep, the two boys were found
with guns at their heads, no option to fight
they were locked up like stray dogs in the pound.
The men called it an orphanage
but they boys were trapped inside
no beds or toilets
in one big hall with no light.
They dreamt of running free in the meadows
but they feared what they knew
it would be stained with blood and sufferers’ echoes
a town engulfed by sorrow red hue.