Finding the Courage

I’m not a poet

or a spoken word artist

Sometimes my voice shakes

and my words fall out of place

But sometimes I find the courage,

to look injustice in the face

When the silence is so loud 

and all that’s said is to please the crowds

When the news that’s presented “BREAKING”

is only breaking the hearts of those who's story its faking

When everything is painted black and white and anything in-between isn’t given its right

You find yourself searching

Searching for a way to give the voiceless a voice

The choice-less a choice

and the oppressed…a moment of peace in which to rejoice  

I’m not a poet 

or a spoken word artist

Sometimes my voice shakes

and my words fall out of place

But sometimes I find the courage, 

to look injustice in the face

When you see images of children drawing tanks and towers 

instead of houses and flowers

Childhoods scarred in a world that bombards, 

With nothing but sheer dis-regard 

Left as orphans to live alone, not knowing again the meaning of “home”

You wonder what you can do from countries away 

For such children living in eternal dismay

Fighting for dignity and liberty

Palestine and Syria, alone face an enemy

An enemy called ignorance and inequality 

An enemy with no regard for innocent souls 

Who's only goals were freedom with no controls

No limitation and segregation 

No checkpoints and humiliations

No violence…just peace throughout their nations 

I’m not a poet 

or a spoken word artist

Sometimes my voice shakes

and my words fall out of place

But sometimes I find the courage, 

to look injustice in the face

I find the courage to pick up my pen

Write until the ink runs out 

Till I’ve shattered all my doubts

I find the courage to put it on paper

To put it in words, to present “maybe later”

And in that scrambled paper and wrinkled page

I realized that the world is our stage

A place of liberation from our cage

Into a world where we are united and represented

Not disconnected and reinvented 

I used to say Somebody should do something about that

Then I realized I am somebody…

I may not be a poet or a spoken word artist

My voice may shake and my words may fall out of place

But sometimes I find the courage, 

to look injustice in the face