Friday, December 9, 2011

Losing My Innocence

I am walking the streets of Ramallah inside my mind
I am a 5 year old child playing innocently with baby chicks
Everyone around knows me and are very kind
Life was so simple living in the mix

Dad’s work was beautifying
Painting was his stock in trade
The air in Ramallah was purifying
Fresh morning donkey rides were made

To our farm to pick the fruits, especially figs
Then sell them door to door
My brother and I would eat the apricots like pigs
What was left was sold at the market in front of the store

At night I would watch grandma and relatives
Play Basra until the middle of the night
We were happy with our lives
Simplicity it was although the future was not bright

When I was about to turn six years old
I remember people assembled in front of city hall
I remember the goods in the store were all sold
I remember the words that war was the call

I lost my innocence on that faithful day
I realized the world around
Good times would not stay
At night the curfew left no sound

Soldiers occupied Ramallah
Relatives had to leave before nine
I was young but still questioned Allah
How could this be fine?

Dad left for the United States in 1965
He called for us and we left in November, 1967
I left Ramallah behind with a guilty initiative   
Landing at O’Hare Airport was like heaven

                                Fadi Zanayed
                                December 3, 2011
                                5:09 pm

(  © Copyright, Fadi Zanayed.  Publication or distribution of this material is allowed provided its content is not altered and the source and its author are cited.)

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