Boycott for Peace

I dream of a day Palestinian youth can play in flower filled gardens
With jasmine flowers woven through braided hair
And families breaking bread together at dinner

I dream of a day children can freely walk markets of Shuhada
With sticky hands from creamy pistachio ice cream
Smelling the sweet aroma of summer air
Tangy fresh mango juice dripping down arms

I dream of a day families can sit on balconies
Overlooking city lights
Without fear of the war zone they live in
Smiles that are genuine, not forced
Beauty that can once again be admired and not feared
Contentment that’s not far from reach

I dream of a day Palestinians can feel safe in their own skin
Not stripped of their rights and freedom
That they can come home to a house made from bricks
Instead of rubble of once upon a time memories

I dream of a day government can protect instead of slaughter
Children don’t know a day without their parents
A mother doesn’t bare the sight of her infant taking his last breath

I dream of a day children don’t fall asleep to sounds of gunshots and growling bellies
Who see sunny days each morning, instead of streets of bloodshed
Who don’t see a once beautiful world now plastered black

I dream of a day something as simple as an empty tin cup
That begs for more than just money
And shouts for more than just an act of kindness
Can help us search for change in our hearts

I dream of a day we see their lives through a clearer lens
That we understand what cans-of-cancer support
Stocked on shelves of grocery stores
Hiding the label of murder

I dream of a day our eyes aren’t blinded from reality
We love beings, regardless of their religion and race
We think of the untold lives of faceless faces
We see occupation for what it is


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