The Fall of the Oppressor
They’re trying to mess with my head, psychologically.
Telling me my wife is cheating on me.
I know, he’s lying, the picture is clear.
I know, he’s bluffing, yet the lie still pressures me.
It reminds me of how weak and helpless I am here…
But my faith is strong, I know I will end up outside these walls.
Behind these bars time took a different definition.
The day became an hour, and the minute became a second.
I wasn’t born to live my life here…
I wasn’t born to meet my family behind the glass and on the telephone.
An m16 in the hand of a soldier wanting to teach you manner.s
Want to defend yourself? Here’s a life sentence.
Who cares about us?
Definitely not my government.
Definitely not the law that never recognized my rights.
You don’t need an expert to tell you how dirty their law is,
When 40% of my people know what it means to be a political prisoner
Sometimes i ask myself why I can’t be optimistic…
The plate gets thrown on the floor, its hardly eatable.
When i was a child they taught me that prison is for the criminal who wants to harm me.
Here my crime is… being born palestinian
The temperature of the floor
Lets me know if its September or February
Iremember my family, the sky, joy…
As many obstacles they put, I will never forget the seasons.
I won’t forget 48, I wont forget the massacres…
I kept reminding myself I will not rot, I know the day is coming
I am not rotting. I know the day is coming.
I ask of God to show me the end of this building.
Greet the relatives and tell them I still believe in miracles.
I could have been a doctor, a singer, an engineer.
But fate is pointing a gun to my head.
All my plans are disappearing in front of me.
I’m sitting on a chair, handcuffed from the top and the bottom.
The bread is hard.
Mother I feel i’m getting sick and dizzy…
Yet my focus is on freedom.
I’m isolated far away and hidden from reality
Mother i have a new friend, his name is as mine, and his face is the same as mine
solitary confinement, mother i miss my home.
If I die, take all of my stuff
and throw my coffin at the judge.
The ghosts of my ancestors are calling
demanding their land, where the prisons are, where their children are suffering.
We have to remember the names,
I don’t see one drop of justice, all I see is administrative detention.
I didn’t choose to be here, it wasn’t my choice
keep your head up, your life is valuable.
Their system thought it had everything under control.
But all of a sudden, a hunger strike began.
They thought the human being is hungry and would be greedy for his food.
But the human being is only hungry for one thing: The fall of the oppressor.
……The fall of the oppressor
~ by Dima Eleiwa