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Growing restlessness, a deep sense of unease

A feeling of futile hope, which no words can appease


Disbelief that once again we are observers of our own fate

Deep fear that will not abate, for futures we cannot create


Our conscience ahead of our voices subdued

In silence, yet again, buried guilt is imbued


For when will we awaken and understand

That all this suffering is for our riches not sand


When will we learn that submission is for the weak

And that silence will always be the ploy of the meek


We sit and debate as strategies are formed

And watch in horror as their executions unfold


Forever played as pawns of no value

Our vision derided by a sense of déjà vu

 
As events unfold like a Shakespearean tragedy

I shudder at the farce our enduring legacy


Inevitably we embrace outside interference

Expediently rushing to provide unhindered clearance


In frustration we analyze the double standards and fake media

Yet allow them free access to generate mass hysteria


How else can we master the art of hypocrisy?

Than by yielding in deference to all this duplicity


Double edged swords on which nations are maimed regardless

And the foregone conclusion that we only have permission to regress.

 
 
~ Dedicated to the People of Palestine & the Children of Gaza ~


My heart aches

Powerless futility

A nightmare déjà vu

It could so easily have been us



Blood soaked bodies

Dust drenched hair

Mangled corpses

Wild eyed despair



Burnt land

Crushed olive trees

Smoke, fire, gas, flames

Destruction is so simple

Havoc comes far too easily



Accountability?

None. Ever.

Above the law.

Always

A carte blanche issued at the highest levels



God? Karma? Leaders?

Me? You? Them?

All turn a blind eye

A nation forgotten



Inconvenient

Embarrassing

A problem

Sweep them under the carpet



Ignore them

Hope they’ll wither and die

But they will not

Never

Ever



They are your conscience

Their screams tear at your soul

They will haunt your dreams

Those innocent children

Those new born babes



Incinerated

Bludgeoned

Murdered

Crushed

Smothered

They have no future



And why?

Because you were silent

Kid yourself not

The least you can do is use your voice



There are no excuses

With enough voices we will be heard

We must be heard

In a world of insanity, greed & corruption

Those with a conscience must speak up



For if we do not

Then who will?

If we cannot

Then who can?



The silence is deafening

And so it goes on

The bombs rain down  

A living hell on earth



And for what?

Campaign votes?

Capitalism?

Democracy?

Ego?

A farce.

Manipulation at best

 Murder most savage at least



May they be haunted in their dreams

And with every breath they take

For he who steals the lives of innocent children

Deserves their life to be a living hell

And may their hereafter be nothing less.



(c) Rula Zein-Iddin
 
 
Unfortunately this is a painfully common sight at traffic lights and street corners.
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The initial approach

This young girl approached me saying she was hungry and begging for money.... Scenes like this make you wonder where our humanity is hiding.

#streetphotography #street #poverty #humanity #humanism #amman #jordan #jordanian


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Getting to know you...

I managed to engage her in conversation and discovered what a truly beautiful child hid beneath the depths of her poverty stricken despair.

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Her intelligence & personality shine through...


....it would take so little to enable her to realise her true potential....

And yet how many other little girls are out there being forced to beg a living?



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Two sides to every coin....


....behind her you can spot an excited & happy little girl running towards the hanging toys....


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In stark contrast...

And there, just a few metres behind the poor beggar girl and thank-fully unbeknown to her...

.....a care-free child lays claim to her chosen toy.....and loudly beckons her parents to buy her a rubber floater.

Oh the irony.


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But I want this one....

....would that any child's wishes were so easy to grant.


 
 
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Sixty Four Years

Full of blood stained tears

People who lived in fear

Painful memories that sear

How is it they endure?

Patiently awaiting a "cure"?

How can a nation live in hope?

How do they even cope?

Daily they live in resistance

Constantly showing persistence

Brave souls that have passed

Others for months did fast

Never losing sight

Of their clear legal right

A belief held so strong

A 64 year old wrong

People forever unite

In this steadfast nation’s plight

Dreams of living proud and free

To their homes, they still carry the key

A hope to which they aspire

A reality that will transpire

~ By Rula Zein-Iddin


A small poem I wrote this morning. Dedicated to all the Martyrs of Palestine who died so others could live proud and free.