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They are bombing children
as their own
are hummed lullabies.
They are bombing children
as their own
are tucked into bed tonight.
They are bombing children
as their own are rocked to sleep.
They are bombing children
with rockets burying them
in rubble deep.
Syria
as long as you say i love you
pouring rain in the afternoon
i will believe you
just because i want to be broken
and when you left me alone in the dark
i will destroy myself
in a room full of dust and tear
my sweet blood
my numb soul
my wounded body
gonna haunt you
i do not feel fine and i can not express my feelings so this is the mess inside my head

— The End —