Lebanon explosion

 Polish the shards that were your heart before, when you were young and innocent and no continuous explosions were at your door 

Recoil the small springs of your lungs, even though they're 40% short of breath, you'll need them now to jump over the cloud of debris 

Lime the topsy turvy vertebrae on your back, as your right leg will always be longer and its hip and knee aching 

You'll have to pass through the rumble and the rubble, despite having nowhere to go 

This yellowish-pink dense dust that is sticking to your whole body and soul covers everything your eyes can reach

There is an orange-brick powder now colouring your hair, just like old rust rotting dry on metal 

 I hope your hands, in the absence of light, tap-tapping, can find your loved ones again inside those broken walls before they crumble and fall.