Little bird, little bird,
Why don't you fly?
Are the fences to high?
Are the boundaries to big?
Are you lost or hungry?
Are you lonely or sick?
Let me see your wings,
Little bird, they are clipped.


Little bird, little bird,
Don't look at the sky.
Just sing in the dust.
Just scratch in the sand.
Just hop in holes.
Just peck till you bleed.
The stones are your food.
And your nest is the street.

Soaring above Gaza City,
Blue skies everywhere, everywhere.
Skies with no fences, no camps.
I see the prison.
I land on the roof and then find
My Father's tiny window. So tiny.
How can anyone live with so little sky?
I take him a piece of the blue.
Now he can live one more day.
I will be back tomorrow,
I tell him.

Rising through the smoke,
I streak upward.
I circle the palms with their
Open leaves pressed to the sky
They are calling me to
Come sit on them, but I do not.
I ride the shifts in the wind,
Higher, the lower, then higher still.
At last I'm free of the fire,
The smoke, the sound of the battle.
Free to be with Father.

I am the child of Palistian
I have my cause and I have my rights
When I see my older brother
Taken up into the outlaw's hands
I cry out the international cry
That if they shoot me to my death
I'll clutch a stone in my hand
And never forget the martyrs' cause

Dead
Leaves
Flutter
Like
Butterflies

To
the
Ground

Red
Orange
B­rown

Spreading
Out
Like
A
Sheet
Of
Glass

Tiny
And
Weak

Drugs
Gamble
******

Head
Under
Water

Life
Slippi­ng
Away