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Feb 2015
I was born a day before 9/11
A Muslim by beliefs,
A foreigner by colour,
Bred an English-woman.
 
I grew up like any other child at the time,
Always quick to justify my religion,
While singing joyful hymns,
In a Christian Primary School.
 
I first paid attention to the news when I discovered,
What was happening to my spiritual ‘sisters and brothers’,
The west and the east mindlessly killing and hurting,
Tangled and bound  in a cycle of revenge.
 
For some months I was torn,
Unable to decide,
Who was wrong?
Who was right?
 
Those in the far desserts of the east,
Who had been robbed of their oil and land,
Betrayed by the west in a promise,
They had permission to be furious,
 
Then there was the proudness of the  west,
Who had committed many crimes in the past,
But that was no excuse for it to be justifiable,
To result in the massacre of thousands of men.
 
 
But now I think,
We are taught we are one race,
Humans,
Not Jews,
Not Muslims,
Not Hindus,
Not Christians
 
So why do we bring ourselves to the point,
Where all we have left our children is hate,
In our will we give them an eternal fight,
And all we feed them is bias and lies,
 
They will listen for they know no better,
And they will never forget or forgive,
The only option we will ever give,
Is to act upon what we taught is right.
 
 
So please stop the suicide bombs and fighting,
Put down your arms and guns,
A war on differences,
It will do more harm than good.
 
And all those children in the darkest corners of the world,
Give them the wasteful food and goods,
That you would have spent on weapons and destruction,
They will spend on life and protection.
 
Take every unique persons hand,
And make circles around the temples and mosques,
Give the youth the perfect example,
Of respect at its utmost best.
 
And join forces with the countries,
Who struggle to keep power in their cities,
Be patient and treat their problems as your own,
Because a hundred friends is better than a hundred foes.
 
Religion, united we can truly win
But separated,
We will create a breeding ground,
For a cycle of  hate and war.
Long poem about my frustrations
RainyWriter
Written by
RainyWriter  A place only I know.
(A place only I know.)   
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