In a torn tent surrounded by Zionist tanks from every side, a child is starving in front of his helpless grandmother, and his skinny body was melted until he turned into a skeleton trembling from the intensity of weakness. You look at him with two eyes that are drowned by tears, you do not have what you feed, and do not even have what you say. Suffice it to join her naked chest, she tries to relieve hunger and waiting pain. Bread is missing, water is contaminated, and life escapes from their fingers as childhood escapes from the face of this young. In Gaza, the shells are not killed alone, but hunger kills them, and the world’s betrayal kills them, and its eternal silence is on a slow death that besieged them at every moment.
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