How does God punish our wrongdoings? Exactly like this:
This is a poem by Meuna who is 7 years old on his mother’s birthday: enjoy.
So my leg lunged forward, and you slowly matched that step,
Smiling, clinging onto my hand trembling no more.
I wasn’t going to let you go.
I would succeed.
I had done this before
Yesterday, it all seemed clear: backpack stuffed,
Maps marked and ready, dreams clear and steady
Like a tight line stunt.
Nobody knows that I died a long time ago.
But she would have known,
Even from the slab at Melen.
When you love her, say: “Journey with me through all of life’s worst despair,
My little flower, through life, surviving hostile care”