A small poem made from words cut out from the Saturday 26 February edition of The Guardian.
26 February 2022
It took us six hours to pack a rucksack:
junk food, an iPhone 12, a warm jumper,
earplugs, spoons, a makeshift weapon.
I saw this year's director of happiness
they smiled back.
"I am aware of all these scenarios.
Get a lot of sunshine. Be happy.
This is happening to other people."
I tried to call my friend
Then I heard a sound a terrible tremor
I saw many children;
and I just hope they will not die