As I lie in bed,
This but most average of Thursdays,
I feel upset when mere moments ago I was joyful,
All because I cannot hear bombs and jets.
A wise man I have often heard said the line,
That is it a privilege to not be subject to such,
And I cannot reconcile that with my current state,
And the current state in Palestine.
My step-father was a Jew,
Albeit not a very Orthodox one,
And each year I celebrate Hanukkah,
Though it’s more for the gifts.
I like to believe I am not an enemy of the Jewish peoples,
As well as that I would not like to believe myself a supporter of an oppressive state,
Which leaves me at a crossroads,
Between two of the three children of Abraham.
The eldest has long been mistreated,
By both the middle, and the younger,
And it is more ingrained into our thoughts,
Due to long nights of broken glass.
However the youngest is also vilified unfairly,
Seen as the poker to a roaring wildfire,
Creating chaos and calamity wherever it so gazes,
Below the worth of any other human.
Both groups must know,
Indeed it is imperative so,
That they are not truly enemies of one another,
But rather pawns in the game of geopolitics.
If the people being so horrendously bombed,
If they might awaken from this cold slumber,
Then they may be able to stand a chance against their current foe,
But that will only occur if we shake their shoulder.