poetry by abeda fayaz
Mulberry Literary Fresh Voices Award First Place Winner in Poetry

*CONTENT WARNING – war

(Palestine)

can you not hear the children crying?
with each moment passing 
there are people in Palestine dying
but all that the media does is lie
blaming everything on innocent people's life 
even when you didn't belong
they gave you their land so you could get along
and now you want it all for your own?
it was better when your name was unknown
they shouldn't have invited you
or made you feel home
if they had known you'd turnout a backstabber
they wouldn't have trusted you with their
land or shared their power 
you're still firing your bombs
when you know there are young
children lying in their tombs 
you still want more room
when there's not enough beds at the hospitals for injured mothers with child in their womb
you call it a war
but it's just their border filled with corpse 
everyone from land to the sea
knows Palestine should be free
we'll raise our voices till we don't get our peace 
and keep fighting back till our last breath

The Quietest Times

it's the quietest times
where my mind feels the loudest
sitting in a corner thinking about
the moments that aren't my proudest
i try to turn my thoughts into words
but the closest i got stayed under my breath
whenever i go to someone to talk
the voices in my head make my words block
they ask, hey are you okay?
is there something you want to say?
i just look down and walk away
i guess that's why people leave me alone 
just more thoughts I've to figure on my own
i fear letting people into my space
cause i know I'm easily replaced
it's the fear that keeps me from saying too much
the more quiet i stay the less there is to judge
maybe i play it too safe
locking myself in the cage
so there's nothing I've to explain 
i would do anything for a change
but speaking up for myself feels like a complain
i prefer staying silent
it could be labelled as my best talent