Little do you know that these words
Can silence you,
Leave you questioning the ignorance
That you believe is true.
My reality is as real as yours.
So don't you dare pretend,
Everything happens behind closed doors.
This oppression I speak of,
And the rage I harbour,
Screaming from the bottom of a well.
The frustration and the sheer exhaustion, to be counted,
Begging to be heard.
There is a war,
You may not be aware of.
Pride and dignity stripped away,
On these unseen battle grounds.
You can chose to be blind,
But you cannot call me insane.
This is real,
And this is happening,
Whether you like it or not.
© Meenu Syriac
— The End —