In her poem Caitlin is saying to us don't you dare forget the children of Gaza. The children shot to pieces. Their limbs amputated. Burnt. Hungry. With their battered saucepans waiting for gruel to be doled out. Wise with misery beyond their years. Looking for their mothers and fathers in the rubble. The little children who became old and wise in an instant. The little children lost.
In her poem Caitlin is saying to us don't you dare forget the children of Gaza. The children shot to pieces. Their limbs amputated. Burnt. Hungry. With their battered saucepans waiting for gruel to be doled out. Wise with misery beyond their years. Looking for their mothers and fathers in the rubble. The little children who became old and wise in an instant. The little children lost.