Peshawar Massacre Of 134 School Children At The Army Public School Poem by mazHur Butt

What sort of a mother am I
Who cannot even count
the innumerable bullet wounds
spread all over the delicate body
of her beloved child
However, day and night
I keep counting
the myriad of marks
left by the terrorists' bullets
on his school bag
I will also keep counting
the numerous shot wounds
that spread all over
his blood-stained books and uniform as well
provided I have the luck to live until then.


(translation by mazHur Butt)