“We’re dying here!” cries Wafiqa,
black headscarf blotting tears.
Today, 60 food parcels vanish
before a thousand empty hands.
“The world has not forgotten you,”
the official informs the queue.
The camera swings. Kiffah,
thirteen, attempts bravery,
says he’s fine. But hunger’s
famished him, he’s broken
without bread. Denial brings
a stinging bitterness of tears.
Although the journalist must
analyse politics, the enemy’s use
of hunger as a lethal weapon,
a corner of the camera’s eye
sees her hand, reaching to touch
Kiffah’s arm, to comfort, almost to say
My son. And as this bulletin concludes, we find
we feel for him as family; it’s hard to turn away.
Syria crisis: A Palestinian plea from Yarmouk refugee camp