We present you a poem from Rosa Bino, a member of old Chechen diaspora in Jordan.
What happened to that child?
Why do I see a reflection of a broken happiness deep in this child’s eyes?
War is painted all over his little body,
Fear is drown on his angelic face,
Seeing fireworks makes him run and hide…
They wake the nightmare he had to live,
Back then when booming became his lullaby.
Once a friend gave him a toy gun…
He was so stunned,
He thought to himself:
“This is the toy which took my daddy away,
This is the toy which made mommy weep every day,
This is the toy which ruined the play ground where me and my friends used to play…”
His friend didn’t understand that look in his eyes,
That look which held those dark memory images
That settled deep in these eyes…
This little soldier,
This little boy is sleepless every single night,
Monsters slowly crawl to his mind reminding him of what he left behind…
Millions of question marks attack him:
“Who am I and where do I stand?
When did I stop and fall like the last tear drop?
When did I become who I am today?
When did autumn become my sunny may?
How did I find shelter in this cold lonely winter?
Why do I feel so empty and hollow inside?…”
This little boy is no longer a child,
This child is a little soldier!
He sits and watches the view of sun set
Thinking of the day when he’ll go back and
Play hide and seek with those men and their scary guns,
But this time his mommy wont stop him
And she’ll let him stay,
He’ll be chasing them for the stolen childhood!
This little soldier is only three and one day he will set