We condemn the Israeli violence,
yet we commit our own violence.
We demand help from others,
yet we will not help ourselves.
Violence has become our currency,
pain our national language.

Our dreams have melted,
losing any hopeful form.
Our future has no lasting shape,
because we hold wax to flame.
We have betrayed each other,
leaders have failed unanimously.

Untold numbers scream of violation,
but we only hear rhetoric and contempt.
Each action is more painful than the last,
from rocks, rubber bullets, and missiles.
Flames roar over the people,
but the arsonists are also the firefighters.

Bricks, once carefully placed,
now sit as a mass of rubble.
The path was paved and repaved,
but each time we destroy it.
We call from on high,
but we live on the down low.

The holy river, once a gem
now wreaks of our misuse.
Mercy escapes us
and we escape mercy.
Blame is our only flavor
and it sits bitterly in our mouths.

-Samer Farhat