Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are,
Up above our house so bright
Like a demon in the night.
I’m so scared of things that thump.
Scared to laugh, scared to jump.
I’m so scared of lights that shine.
Scared to walk, scared of mines.
They say that soon all this will cease.
They say that this will bring us peace.
You’ll be liberated then, the soldiers said.
How I wonder, now my mother’s dead?
First published in Lines in the Sand (Frances Lincoln)