I don't know what to do for you,
children.
I've heard you tell your stories,
with terror in your eyes
and voices broken by emotion,
I've seen you cry
for your lost dear ones,
I've heard your dreams
of a garden where you can play
with no more bombs or bullets,
of a house where you can sleep
without holes in the walls,
of a school where you can study
without fear of having to flee,
of a place where you can grow up
without hatred or grudges.
I don't know what to do for you,
children.
I can only write
hoping that my words
will reach the hearts
of those who claim to love you
but don't love you,
of those who claim to protect you
but don't protect you,
of those who don't want you to die
but **** you,
of those who don't want you to suffer
yet make you suffer,
of those who can stop all this
but refuse to do it.

27.12.'15