When they kicked you, it caused you pain,
But when you strike them, no guilt remain?
The land you claim was never your due,
The people who lived there—what did they do?

They've been here for ages; how dare you stare?
You want them to leave, but how is that fair?
Yet you cry when others want you to flee,
Is this not the same? Can't you see?

No right, no left, no place to hide,
Should they cry in silence or stand with pride?
They fight for their lives, with no room to decide,
But your heart is cold, like the blood inside.

How many children did you let fall?
How many elders heard death's call?
Yet you claim it's them who strike,
But it's a twisted tale that hypocrites hype.

You ask for mercy, but where is yours?
Give it to them before you implore.
No more waiting, no more cries,
This time we fight, with our lives.

To the people of Palestine - ©brave

The world is cruel, the night is dark,
Pain so pure, honesty is rare.
You left the poem, but where are you, dear?
Lost in the silence, yet I feel you near.

The day was night, a shadow of you,
Calling me softly, is that your cue?
You loved me once, my heart you swore,
But left me here to long for more.

Life flows like a river, unstoppable & wild,
Tears fall like rain, with no end in sight.
Time flies like the wind, swift and unkind,
No one waits, no one minds.

They never cared, they never will,
Loneliness lingers, a bitter pill.
What else can I do but sit and sigh,
Hoping someday I'll learn to fly?

Over and over, I thought things would mend,
But nothing was ever fine in the end.
Still, I wait in the silence, it's all I can do—
Tell me, love, are you waiting too?

©brave