Voices Unheard: the Plight of Palestinians
Every sleepless night comes with that thought,
The itching feeling in my heart it has brought,
Where are the rest of them sleeping?,
Days without food, their hunger creeping.
My food and water feel like a choke,
My tears get stuck, my heart is broke,
The thought hits like a bomb in my head,
How will I face my Lord when I'm dead.
When He asks why I was blind,
To the suffering and pain of His mankind,
How could I be comfortable when hands were cut?
How could I be so callous and left it to rot?
The children screaming for help,
How could I ignore their helpless yelp,
Can I sleep peacefully with what they've lost?
How can I claim to be righteous at all cost?
How will I make it up to them,
Say we are one, we are brethren,
How can I call myself their kin,
When I betrayed them and stayed within?
I did nothing to help, I did not move,
I did not stop Israel from their cruel groove,
How do I live with the guilt and shame,
The price of my silence is now my name.
Copyright © Maya Evans | Year Posted 2023
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