A Graveyard Playground

I’m choking up on the blurred images on my screen
which I know are only a snapshot of the evil behind the scenes
police brutality- billions on war machines
scandal- a dime a dozen under US marines
There’s little boys and girls growing up in a warzone
lives violated as if not their own
They’re not knowing another way
dodging land mines- just a game they play
so they make the best of a graveyard, playground
not forgetting the sound of another bomb drop
marking the promised land’s pit stop
They’re memorising every gunshot- every corpse laid before them
course there’s no pleasure in seeing a new day dawning
surviving another night holds no glory
for living is worse than any nightmare
or sentence in purgatory
These kids are forever haunted
by screams of loved ones as the beating hearts stop
in a world more terrifying than a Stephen King plot
Their reality- an everyday tragedy- endless suffering
but to us it’s simply nothing
just a vulgar image we scroll past on the latest I phone
one to our kids- we demand not be shown
Bloodshed’s only an issue when it infiltrates your home
brings up the awkward question of the suffering we condone

Another greedy leader of the first world
makes it his business to invade the third world
laying claim on the shiny treasures
the oppressed yield
day in and day out another stampede
not minding the lives trampled
by this tactless chase of pure greed
the truth of innocent dead
tales fabricated or the lies spread
The bodies pile up while the media turns the dial up
to keep the world in check…. check….
Like a fast moving game of little consequence
The white Queen’s knight simply going the distance
but the winners been decided- so no taking bets
The fact of the matter is- the fate of this game
is of little reverence
written thousands of years prior to the players
who need not play the defence
decided on the stakes that would take place
Long before those stakes had a face,
and a name and a race
Long before dark silken curls framed that face,
before remnants of war
hid the innocence of that face
and eyes of amethyst searched for a safe place
for the child of that face (no older than age eight)
to hide in the rubble of where her brother met his fate

So mate It’s a check mate far from a stale mate
They say- look the other way- it’s not too late
fine to ignore the victims if we don’t see their face,
know their names respect their race
dare not listen to the the voices who speak out
against a terrorist state
But I’ll pray and hope, plead and pray a little more
that you’re truly invested in the cause that we stand for
immune to media propaganda
I mean I hope that you withstand a’
flooded majority’s thoughts on this atrocity- a
flawed view on justified, delibertate ethnocide
that you’ll stand up and say enough of this genocide
or are at least not afraid to be on the powerless side
and attempt to shed light on what the powerful hide
and if for some reason your unable to see reason
commit & take this fight in stride
and give nothing else or little more
then I urge you- I implore
that you’ll at least echo this voice of mine
When I say FREE PALESTINE!