I said it wasn't my country,
so I watched her milks turn acids
her blood diluting her rivers of honey
and her tears washing off her own fertility.

I had no fear—
     for it wasn't near.

I said it wasn't my tribe,
so I saw,
but pretended not to have even looked
I listened,
but pretended not to have even heard
Yet it was written on my every line;
they aren't of my kind.

I didn't care—
     for it wasn't my tears.

I said it wasn't my religion,
so I turned my back
reciting from my scriptures
I have eyes, but had no vision.

I had no fear—
     for of God, who dares?

It came for my country, but I wasn't near
It went for my tribe, but I wasn't there
It came for my religion, but I wasn't aware.
Now it has come for me,
but there's no one here.

By Abdulmalik Jibril
©2019