Poem: The Village

I will be posting two poems tonight, this being the first one. It concerns the Syrian Civil War, and I hope you enjoy. This week’s quote comes from Noam Chomsky, a prolific American linguist and philosopher.

The Village

In a country called Syria,

            A country I called home,

We lived a quiet and peaceful life,

            On the east side of Aleppo.

My family, rooted here,

            Countless generations from past to present.

A world untouched by evil,

            An existence untouched by strife.

            And yet our world changed.

They started chanting, demanding in the street,

            “For freedom!” they shouted, and a man they intended to defeat.

Assad, the man in power, his family in control for years,

            Apparently the devil, one whom deserves no right to rule.

They say we must rebel, we must fight,

            Or we will never know a better life.

But could these men and these women

            Truly promise me a world with even less strife?

They told me I wasn't safe, that I've been hurt,

            But I've never been more secure.

They say there’s no democracy,

            But that’s not what they’re fighting for.

            And yet our world changed again.

The fighting erupted, the rockets and guns,

            No air safe to breath, no street safe to run.

The children, they cried, and the mothers, they screamed,

            Everything they've ever known being torn at the seams.

I never knew this kind of violence,

            And yet I thought I’d be okay.

But I awoke on a sweaty morning,

            Without my mother.

I decided to fight, to side with those who’d kept me safe,

            To fight for the “evil” regime, the ones who never wished to steal a life.

They were not like me, not in the slightest,

            They declared these rebels terrorist fools.

I never wanted to agree with them,

            I never intended to hurt a soul.

            And yet my world changed.