Blood on our hands

Blood on our hands
Blood on our hands
We all have Gazan blood on our hands
The senseless murders
The executive orders
To destroy daughters, sons, fathers, and mothers
The inhumane soldiers
Who infiltrate meaningless borders
These are all burdens we shoulder
Each orphan child’s cry, each loss of innocent life
Can be traced back to our complacency in the fight
Against the machine, the beast that terrorizes with might
And funds the ghastly missiles that strike
Homes and hospitals in the middle of the night
Tearing off limbs left and right
What crime did these people commit to deserve this plight?
To endure brutal military occupation
No sovereign recognition
Their human rights an afterthought in the eyes of the world’s nations
The suffering a source of twisted jubilation
For enemies who punish without hesitation
And strip precious dignity for their own elevation
“Does anyone care?” they cry, day after day
Hoping someone will hear and take their pain away
But we are too consumed with our work and our play
“Let someone else handle it,” we say with a wave
“After all, isn’t this why taxes and politicians are paid?
Leave us with our cars, our mansions, in our oblivious haze.”
But the screams and cries never seem to end
Until finally our ignorance becomes impossible to defend
From our privileged thrones we are forced to descend
And examine the situation that we must now mend
We protest and search desperately for politicians to befriend
Anyone who can prevent this from becoming a dead end
But our demands may be too little too late
It is nearly impossible now to change the Gazan fate
That was destined years ago to be an apartheid state
By lobbyists and politicians more concerned with their reelection rate
Where were we when the foundation was being laid?
Or during decades of conflict that refused to abate?
Our protests fall on deaf ears
And hearts that are sealed
By money and power that is held so dear
While our brothers and sisters cower in fear
Hoping to see tomorrow, and if they’re lucky, next year
This is the grim reality as it appears
Blood on our hands
Blood on our hands
We all have Gazan blood on our hands

Wardah Khalid is the author of the “Young American Muslim” blog for the Houston Chronicle. She is a recent graduate of Columbia University’s School of International and Public Affairs.

(Photo Credit: andlun1)

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