WHAT CAN THEY DO // KHULOOD FAHIM & MOHINI HEWA

 
 
 

She washed the streets in salty tears, 
And turned the sand to mud, 
The wind picked up her deafening screams, 
As she limped back to her canvas hut. 

“No bread today,” she cried out loud, 
“The children took it all,
What can I do but cry and starve, 
And watch my country fall?” 

A loud thud then shook the fabric, 
Two minutes, they were covered in white, 
All the bread then turned to stone, 
The children now shared her strife. 

Her throat was parched, her fingers blue, 
She could not move an inch, 
They picked her up, her soul departed, 
Her coffin looked like a crib.

***
text // khulood fahim
art // mohini hewa