Remember and never forget the spilt blood
of women, children and men in the streets,
cities, refugee camps and villages
of proud, ancient Gaza,
How they lay in twilight between morning and night as if they were broken homemade
dolls sewn carelessly by the dry wind.

Remember them, the people and fighters of Gaza,
who like the partisans in wars past,
did not flinch from their spontaneous bravery
like those fighters who fought from unground bunkers
in the Warsaw Ghetto uprising in April of 1943,
who endured the pitiless onslaught
of Nazi troops, belching artillery fire and tanks
as they entered the harsh walled ghetto.

Gaza, that open city of heartache and martyrdom,
remember them who had no wall for the Israeli hordes
of troops to breach,
who came in with tanks belching like rabid dogs,
ravaging with shells that burned Palestinians and their cities
into a Dante inferno
for all the world to see as nations stood by and did nothing
to stop the Zionist carnage turning the skies red,
completely red with blood more abundant
than drinkable water.
Remember for always the people of immortal Gaza,
who they were
and who we never were.