I am the girl, who vanished in the murky border,
In short biography of the happy girl, by Narjes Azimi
with the story of my brother in the darkest war ever,
Hi Banksy, I heard a lot about you!
Maybe you saw us over there,
With those shrewd eyes, you have,
How pretty you painted us, our misery!
You canceled it, how did you know?
Our dreams are no more exist,
Man, you how we feel!
Your eyes watching us wisely
How our souls evaporate in that gloomy night?
How our little hands could just cut our own skin, not a barbed wire?
Thanks for painting us,
Thanks for thinking about us,
Thanks for watching us,
Our paper tops were our only property,
We ornamented the barbed wire,
The trees another side the border calling us
With their ripe apples waving us
Oh, again apples, apple tree,
Even now, even for children, even in war,
Apples seduced us again,
We took them with our red hands
And they took us bloody handed
In the cold autumn, our heart gone with the breeze.
Paper tops were remained in rustling leaves,
Without spinning again.