My Land

A poem dedicated to the Armenian Genocide.

It was a day, an ordinary day
I had walked my way
To an ancient land
Churches as old
As the mountain itself
Covered in ice
Standing right ahead
With proud presence
Challenging me to explore
Its dark valleys
Now home to strangers

The land of our ancestry and blood
Was taken from us
With the brutality of a genocide
Where’s my home?
Where’s my land?
Now it belongs to a different race.
A race that uses our churches
God’s home
For a big rubbish container for all
The pride I feel for my ancient land
Is not worth more than a penny in the enemy’s hands

The water from our streams
So pure so sweet
Now has blood running down hill.
It tries to wash away the pain
Out of our hearts
But my people still ache
In misery and misfortune
My people want to smile
And be free in their land.
Thousands of years of history and pride
Is lost to us
How can I not be in despair?

I want to sing.
I want to laugh.
I want the world to finally realize
The crime that has been done to my race
Remains the source of endless pain
We are stuck somewhere in the years past
And we can not move on
Without the recognition of our genocide

The crime against humanity
Has created a wall
Between 1915 and the great nation we can be.
I really want us to finally move on.
The people who reside in my only home
Are the real heroes of them all
Hang on, stand united I ask.
Let’s together as one
Create a better future for us.
Relying on others has gotten us this far
But we as one can get to the finishing line.


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