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Night Sweats
Adeem the Artist
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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There was a child limp on the pavement
Like a ragdoll in the rubble there
I want to reach through this vignette
To pet the softness of his hair
He was a child, man
Just a child- I can almost hear him laughing now
I would give ten years at least of mine
If it'd bring him back somehow
I saw him on the TV, through a smokescreen
He was a prop on CNN
Might've never seen him if I'm honest
If I saw that clip again
When I start to get the night sweats, my forehead wet
With the stress of that memory
I hardly can recall it now
But my body measures it for me
The muscles still remember what we saw when we were young
Honey wherever we're going, we'll take where we come from
And I see him when I'm sleeping, but his face is like my sons
Under Palestinian wreckage
Dust and shrapnel in his lungs
Oh my God, what have we done? What have we done?
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