From the rubble of Gaza,
my children
are growing up too soon,
their features maturing under a pain no small heart ever chose
Amid the dust, the cold, and the fear,
they try to make a life out of so little,
and from pain, a story of resilience
I see them smile despite everything,
as if they are defying this harsh world,
saying: we are still here and we still love life
From the rubble,
my children are not just survivors,
but witnesses to a time that denied childhood,
a small hope that insists on growing,
despite everything trying to break it