על אלה אני בוכיה
For those who will never be the same because they were forced to kill another person.
For those who were forced to mourn their children and grandchildren.
For those who were forced to mourn their parents.
For those who were born and will never know their father or mother or brother or sister.
For those who did not have a summer vacation from school or work because they had to spend their time in bomb shelters.
For those who had to try and hide even though they didn’t have a safe place.
For those who were up all night worrying about their loved one- not knowing what the news in the morning will bring.
For those who have become totally numb to rockets and rocket warnings because it is an every day occurrence, and they have never known a time without it.
For those who have no where safe to go.
For those who are afraid to be who they are because someone is trying to kill them.
For people not having respect and understanding of other people and things.
For people who want power and fame just for themselves.
For the world looking like a horrible and scary place.
For it being a real struggle to find the good and the beauty in the world and in other people.
For these things, and more, I cry.