I call him Gaza

You call him a terrorist,
I call him a man.
Doing his best,
with what little he can.
Fighting a border,
that shouldn't be there.
In the face of an army,
for his life they don't care.
I call him a man,
who wants to be free.
This man could be you.
This man could be me. 
I call him a prisoner living in a cell,
where the only way out is under their shell.
I call him brave,
as brave as can be. 
To fightback with a rock,
when trapped by land sky and sea.
To throw it to an army,
who want a bullet in his head,
and to bomb his sister while she sleeps in her bed.
Only then the soldier can finish the night,
 feeling pleased with himself for defending his right,
to live in Palestine without an Arab in sight.