The color of hatred is not the rage in a woman’s eyes,jilted by her lover in the eleventh hour.It is the deployment of kids as arsenalsin a holy war that’s not so holy.

Her executionersused her innocenceand sent herinto the midst of the rest,a living grenadewearing a hijab.

On this dayinnocence was drowned in water,and puberty terminated by the blade of the guillotine.

How long would we continueto hear in the news our tomorrows silenced like the lives of flies?