The Silence Between Bombs
a child’s voice lost in the noise of war
I learned to count
not with numbers—
but with the seconds
between explosions.
One… two…
wait—
Hold your breath.
Hope the ceiling doesn’t fall
this time.
Mama used to sing lullabies.
Now she hums
to drown out sirens.
She holds me close,
but I can still hear
her heartbeat racing
like it’s trying to outrun
what’s coming next.
The walls don’t shake anymore.
We do.
And that silence
before the next blast—
It’s the loudest thing
I’ve ever known.
I miss cartoons.
I miss juice boxes.
I miss sleep.
Real sleep—
the kind where you dream
about stars, not rubble.
I once drew a house
with crayons—
bright blue sky,
green grass,
a door that didn’t scream
when it opened.
But that house is gone now.
Or maybe
it never really existed.
We live in shadows.
Not because we want to hide—
but because light invites
the wrong kind of attention.
And laughter?
That’s a luxury.
It’s something we traded
for survival.
Sometimes,
I wonder if the world
knows we’re still here—
Still breathing.
Still breaking.
Still waiting
for a silence
that means peace—
not death.
About the Creator
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Stars Don’t Shine in the City Anymore
I used to count stars like secrets, Spilled across the sky by a universe too full to hold them. I used to lie on the rooftop of my grandfather’s house, The night air pressing gently on my skin— Cool, quiet, kind. Back then, The sky felt endless. And I still believed That wishing on stars meant something. But now— The city buzzes louder than my thoughts. Light pours from windows And flickers from phone screens While the sky above me Remains empty. No stars. Just smog and satellites, Fake moons and forgotten dreams. I stand on concrete Where grass used to grow, And whisper to a sky That doesn’t answer anymore. I don’t make wishes now— I scroll. I tap. I watch strangers dance In tiny boxes Hoping to feel Something. I miss the silence That used to speak louder than words. I miss the way darkness Could still hold light. I miss the stars— And the child I was When I believed They were only mine. Because stars don’t shine In the city anymore. And sometimes, I wonder if I still do.
By Shoaib Afridi6 months ago in Poets
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