One day,
We’ll get to say,
(In the hollowest way),
We told you so.
They’ll say—
Who was to know?
It was too intense,
The fog of war,
Thoughts and prayers
To the victims next door.
Justice—
Is a means to mourn.
Our hearts have now
Received that call.
Will punishing us
Return them all?
See,
It wasn’t us
Who stormed their walls.
It wasn’t us
Who stole their dead.
We never denied them
Meat or bread.
We never set
Our boots on the ground.
It wasn’t our soldiers
On the Temple Mound.
We’ve never set foot
In those military courts.
We weren’t allowed
Into those forts.
We tried to tell them,
Slow the pace,
That genocide
Is not a race.
We tried to warn,
The world can see
That eyes won’t leave
Till Palestine’s free.
But how were we to know?
Contempt for us
Would also grow?
What’s wrong with helping
A friend in need?
When was that
The wrong kind of deed?
What’s wrong with caring
For our own?
Yes, we know
Whose seeds they’ve sown,
Who gifted them
Their backbone.
But the past is the past.
Is justice not
To forgive at last?
We know now,
Freedom for one
Means freedom for all.
Our hearts have now
Received that call.
Punishing us—
Won’t return them all.
It was too intense,
The fog of war,
But thoughts and prayers
To the victims next door.
