The night is long faced
accustomed as it is to misfortune
every night the Palestinian
under occupation, since 1948
tries to sleep in its shadow.
It's people killed everyday
children left as orphans,
daily it is hit, in the face
and in the guts,
again and again
until this process
starts to feel normal.
This is the taste of occupation
people learning to live in fear everyday,
knowing that any minute, their front door
could be kicked down, trying to stay human,
trying desperately to stay sane
knowing that their children, mothers and fathers,
may never return home again.
The children are seen as terrorists,
for simply using slingshots against tanks
and fierce looking men with machine guns
the media likes to portray them as perpetrators
its people as the enemy,
while turning the bully
into a victim.
In the mornings, seeds of bitterness spread
as grim days stretch out this peoples agony,
and the longing for their liberation
and though Palestine does not exist on the map
it exists in the hearts of millions around the world.
Like the night, they have learnt
that with warm buds of thirst,
freedom is existence, and survival is resistance
and that one day, from the rivers to the sea ,
with hope on their sides, they will be free.
