I’ve lost my Broken Wall
Someone goes to kill them all
They scream,
grandmothers sing the holy Koran,
when the child silently went to run.

Guns, is not the soul of us
Beyond the human’s feeling machines,
tend to blame something we ring.
A load to peace, oase of a boomber ease

Still they run,
with another smile of a mourning star
on the Red street,
Childs are paused to breath.