One more and one last time

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The Eid clothes that won’t be worn,
The toys that won’t be bought,
The sweets that won’t be shared,
The ball that won’t be kicked,
The swing that’s no longer there,
The smiles that won’t be captured,
The walls that won’t get painted,
The crayons that won’t be used,
The bag that won’t be filled with pens and books,
The bathes that they won’t run from,
The tooth fairies that won’t come,
The school report that won’t be received,
The bed stories that won’t be read,
The beds that are emptied,
The teddies that won’t be hugged,
They are gone.

Tell her that they are gone.
Tell him that they are gone.
Tell her that they flew like birds,
Tell him that they are in a better place,
Tell her that her wails won’t bring them back,
Tell him to let it all out,
Tell her to kiss them one more time,
And one more,
And one last time,
Tell him to stroke their foreheads,
Like it’s bedtime…

Alone and petrified, she whispers
Weenak yamma, weenak yamma,
Ya habeeby yamma, ya habeeby yamma,
Alone and devastated, he sobs

Weenak yabba,
Ya habeeby yabba…
 

 

 

 

 

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