If I could, I would dig them out of the grave
and hug them, and then put them back.
Psychologically, the boy is broken.
He dropped out of school just before graduating.
It’s been a year since the war.
Just after they killed my brother,
the school year started,
but I don’t want to study.
I finished, I don't have energy.
Enough, enough, I’m not at peace.
There is no one I would listen to.
I started to see him in front of me, I imagine Bassam every day.
I learned how to smoke.
Everything you could experience in this life, I have already experienced.
We used to live in our home, I swear, we were comfortable there.
Now, all of us have run away,
we are scattered.
Everyone separated, living in a rented place.
They rent there, we rent here.
And my other children had to rent a place somewhere else.
I started going out and staying away from the house a lot,
so that no one bothers me.
I stay outside of the house until 3 or even 6 in the morning
I became a person that knows nothing in life.
My father tells me “do this, do that", but I don't.
But why? I see you are building the new house...
Whether we build that house or not, Im going to sit in the streets.