Come In My Son! Come In My Son!
That’s all I hear, morning, afternoon, night
Sometimes I step out just to test if she’s watching
There it’ll be, “Come in my son!”
I can’t help it, my best friend Malik, lives across the road
Not even a road, just a dirt path.
“Bombs will drop on your head or
The white soldiers will carry you away!”
Ha!Ha! That’s what she says to stop me from going
They don’t look scary, They’re always laughing on television
I’m not scared, my brothers have gone to join the army
And so will I, when I’m older
I will shoot the enemy, I’m not scared.
Like every other day, today
I crept out my door,
I could hear, “Come in my son!” but I did not bother
As I saw Malik, I ran to play catch with him
A sudden blast made us turn and look at my house
It was no more
The roof had fallen in, half standing walls
Amidst dust and smoke
And the sound of a jet plane flying by
The whole row in front of us was gone
Except for Malik’s house and the place we stood
I can still hear my mother’s voice
“Come in my son” she always said.
Jul 10, 2010
Jul 10, 2010 at 4:06 AM UTC
Come In My Son! Come In My Son!
That’s all I hear, morning, afternoon, night
Sometimes I step out just to test if she’s watching
There it’ll be, “Come in my son!”
I can’t help it, my best friend Malik, lives across the road
Not even a road, just a dirt path.
“Bombs will drop on your head or
The white soldiers will carry you away!”
Ha!Ha! That’s what she says to stop me from going
They don’t look scary, They’re always laughing on television
I’m not scared, my brothers have gone to join the army
And so will I, when I’m older
I will shoot the enemy, I’m not scared.
Like every other day, today
I crept out my door,
I could hear, “Come in my son!” but I did not bother
As I saw Malik, I ran to play catch with him
A sudden blast made us turn and look at my house
It was no more
The roof had fallen in, half standing walls
Amidst dust and smoke
And the sound of a jet plane flying by
The whole row in front of us was gone
Except for Malik’s house and the place we stood
I can still hear my mother’s voice
“Come in my son” she always said.
© shaqila 2003
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