Two children born on distant lands,
In Israel and Palestine, where conflict stands.
Their innocent cries blend with the night,
In a world where their fate was written in plight.
Yousef in Gaza, Miriam in Tel Aviv,
Neither could choose, neither could believe.
A cradle of tension, a nursery of strife,
Where politics twist the tender threads of life.
Across the seas, in lands so free,
We cast our votes, yet fail to see.
The hands that hold the strings so tight,
Are shadows that dance in the global light.
Money and power dictate the game,
While innocents suffer, we share the blame.
Complicit in silence, in choices unmade,
Our comfort bought by the prices they paid.
Yousef dreams of skies so clear,
Without the drones, without the fear.
Miriam hopes for peace to find,
A world where hearts are not maligned.
Their laughter echoes, pure and true,
A testament to what could ensue.
If leaders led with justice, with grace,
And saw in each other a human face.
But here we sit, so far removed,
From the cries of children, from lives unapproved.
Their world, a mirror of what we’ve allowed,
A history written, a future endowed.
Two children born on different sides,
Yet their hearts beat with similar tides.
Innocent lives in a web so grand,
A testament to the blood on our hands.
It’s not right, this fractured world,
Where dreams are shattered, flags unfurled.
We must remember, in all we pursue,
The fates of Yousef and Miriam lie with me and you.
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