Why is it that it’s taboo to speak truth
when the truth is ugly and vile?
Especially when you address the truth
of the dead- the people that have died
those that have left behind,
the affronts, the hurt, the stink,
your open wounds left to fester,
I find it indigestible, hard to swallow
the lump in my throat is
a rock, a pebble, a stone,
a pit falls from the rotten fruit
renders me a blind, deaf, muted
forgotten denial,
un-levied bank of a corrupted
fantastical life, you smile
strange, sinister, frozen
without a gasp, or a breath.
It’s unfathomable
the grace we give to the dead
those who’ve left before you
and left for you, the pain of their lashings,
as if the living were not worth living-
when it was their brutal marks, the outright
slashing of the heart, the attempted murder
of your soul, that has left you dangling here,
as if you were inanimate, without hurt
As is the day we change
As is the day we breathe
As is the air of release
The oxygen so sweet, so sweet
the outcome is in our favor,
unleash the silence, speak loud to truth
and back down never,
to vile compliance.
Never cease to speak truth to silence.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo Credit- Pixabay
This poem was first written in response to some personal attacks I was experiencing, today this is again relevant, but on a much larger scale. #ceasefirenow
– Keep the humanity alive. Never lose the ability to see the people in the face of the atrocities. And, never cease to speak truth to the in-humanity.
Free Gaza! Stop the bleeding 🩸
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