By Jasmine Mubarek, Velocity Contributor

Another child falls
another face lost to the flames of war.
We scream their names,
but the world moves on,
and no one hears us.
Not the ones who die in silence,
not the ones who can’t bury their own.
We protest because if we don’t,
we vanish too.

How many more children
have to bleed out in the streets
before someone sees them?
How many bodies have to pile up
before they stop calling it “collateral damage”?
We march, we shout, we demand justice,
but they’re already gone,
already buried in graves
the world refuses to recognize.

We raise our fists,
but they raise their bombs.
We hold signs,
but they hold rifles.
We demand peace,
but they demand silence.
How do you fight when the world watches
and calls it “just another war”?

We march for every child,
for every mother who never held her baby again,
for every father who had to bury his son alone.
Our protest isn’t just for us
it’s for the ones who will never have a voice,
who will never know what it means to be safe,
who never saw tomorrow.

But we will not stop.
Even if the bombs keep falling,
even if the bodies keep piling,
we will not be silent.
Our pain is not a weapon,
but it’s the truth they can’t bury.
Our protest is our answer
and it’s loud,
and it’s alive,
and it will not fade into the rubble.

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PHOTO BY ÖMER FARUK YIDIZ FOR UNSPLASH