The Hidden Truth

 

Extol me not, I am not worthy.

Lament, I must, for it’s getting stormy,

And the world is no longer syrupy.

 

I lost hope, lost my ambition.

I am on my way, with no destination.

I am lost, lost in translation.

 

The sweet song you used to chant;

I forgot it now, my darling aunt.

I am weary, I feel ‘vacant’

 

I am helpless,

Homeless,

Vicious.

 

This new place is not mine

This new country; I don’t feel fine

Home a word, feeling I can’t define

 

This is not where my great-grand-father was born

This is not our legitimate throne

We should be the ones out there mourn

 

We kill the sons of other men

We rape their homes to build our den

We handicap them and burn their skin

 

We wander around and spread lies

And bury the ‘prints where the truth lies

We control their seas and their skies

 

We learn at school to hate them all

We learn that we are the players and they are the ball

We can turn their spring into fall

 

This is not where we belong

This is not our song

We have to move on and go along

 

We have to leave Palestine

No matter how we try to make it ours, to refine

We are to stop; we crossed the inhumane line.

 

They die so we could live

I don’t want such thing

Let us leave, so we both live

This is not ours to have

Not ours to keep.

Let’s leave. There is no place for us here.

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