
I saw a post today showing that women in Palestine are still writing their children’s names on their tiny limbs as they don’t trust the ‘ceasefire’. That way if the bombs fall, their children’s bodies will not be labelled with their word ‘unknown’.
In the last 24 hours the names of the Israeli hostages are on the main feeds and pages of every western media outlet. The names of the thousands and thousands of Palestinian hostages largely remain unknown.
I thought of this piece called ‘Unknown’ that I wrote many months ago and it broke my heart that nothing really has changed. The Palestinians are still being told on a daily basis that their lives matter less than others.
Unknown.
One single word, written on a little back.
Unknown.
Unknown to whom they belonged.
Unknown who called them my dearest heart.
Unknown who counted toes from one to ten.
Unknown who loved them from the very start.
Unknown who lullabied them to sleep.
Unknown who had for them, endless dreams
Unknown who lay beside them in the rubble deep.
Unknown who else was blown to smithereens.
Unknown.
one single word, the ink barely dried,
a word that tells the story of when humanity died.
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