Kites


 Kites

Let children speak in kites,
Bright scraps of hope sewn in thread —
Multicolor, and sometimes red.
Kids only know riddles and morning buttered bread.
Please avoid treaties penned after bloodshed.
Let children grow — no rocket, no power of global heads.
Let them glide, not fall — they are our tomorrow, after all.
Let the sky be sketched with children's dreams —
Nights with no thunder, filled with the voices of screams.
A kite never kills; it dances —
It carries air of hope and joyful breeze.
So let the children live —
Let them grow —
Let them rise —
Let them be a kite —
Let them fly.

for feedback: wahidharoon70@gmail.com

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