Who am I?
A citizen subjected to cruelest occupation,
I am oppressed,
My name is oppressed, my identity oppressed.
My motherland – an idyllic nation under occupation,
I am subjugated,
terrorized by blood and bullet
And my card says oppressor instead of oppressed.
I hate the gun,
But love the pen that helps to teach the art of love,
The pen that brings my heartfelt emotions to life.
Abuse is rampant,
How can we bear to be mute spectators to violations?
When I raise my voice for my rights,
I am labeled and charged as a Secessionist.
Labeled and denigrated,
Media paints me as a rebel to be shunned,
And my charge sheet is their license,
My record of dissension, their excuse to abuse.
I love mass movements,
To register and show the injustice we bear,
Under occupation by troops licensed to kill and imprison,
Any and all who dares question authority.
The lines are blurred,
Oppressors act violent to keep the peace,
Oppressed seeking rights are called sinners,
My conscience says stand for justice above all else.
©Perveiz Ali[avatar user=”Perveiz” size=”100″ /]
Copyright © Perveiz Ali
Perveiz Ali is on facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/perveiza
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