we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights

On freedom road

I carry the heavy weight of my oppressor on my back.
Basman Derawi
  • Gaza Strip
  • Diaspora

 

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Painting by Basel El-Maqosui

 

He sits on my shoulders,
with his heavy bag on my back.
I am sweating, tired,
my mouth dry.
He has a water bottle in his hand.
But he offers only a piece of dry cake.
I refuse it.  
My back hurts.
Why won’t he look me in the eye?
This dirt road seems endless.
I wonder what my freedom will cost.
He clutches the water,
while I carry him, 
his heavy bag
and his guilt.

 

Author's note: Poetry is mainly images to me, and
in my mind, the Israeli control of our lives is like
being forced to carry our oppressors on our backs.

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