By David Cronin

You can skip your stone on the pond
But stay home with your sisters while I am gone
And promise your mother, whatever you do
You won’t throw a stone where the barbed wire is new

It takes hours through the checkpoint just to go to work
Cleaning toilets and floors for these occupiers
And your anger would be so much more than my shame
If you knew what they force me to do for my pay

Oi, oi oi, the boy with a stone
Oi, oi oi, the boy with a stone

Now there is a soldier, a sniper concealed
And the boy with a stone is crossing the field
Not even ten years old, but he takes a stand
And the soldier can see the stone in his hand

To throw at the armored vehicles and guards
The soldier will stop him before he gets that far
The soldier says to the boy with a stone
‘There’s no No Man’s Land, you should’ve known’

Oi, oi oi, the boy with a stone
Oi, oi oi, the boy with a stone

The boy with a stone will be gone if I blink
He’ll be back with a bomb if I take time to think
We are all soldiers here; I’m just nineteen years old
And I pull the trigger because I am told

We’re defending our right to this land, to exist
Anyway, they respect only the iron fist
Before he can throw, the boy crumples and falls
And lies with the stone in the dust by the walls

Oi, oi oi, the boy with a stone
Oi, oi oi, the boy with a stone

– David Cronin is a playwright and author. He contributed this poem to The Palestine Chronicle.