Being A Palestinian Poem by Tony Adah

I am a free born of a free father and a free mother
My blood runs in radical rills
Still I am a citizen ersatz living under the shackles of gag.
I thought the pebbles from the slings of intifada
Will be the endpoint where my freedom will spin;
In vain the pebbles whipped the air
It is worst with dangling knives that hold the futile future gazing at me.
I will be killing the occupiers with me
But it is not eternal freedom that will bail my generation.
Why don't we coexist?
I ask like a sellout;
One who is tired
Moving camps like a tourist
One who is always policed
And one whose power is attenuated by the Sephardic force
It's all because I am a Palestinian under the conscience of an occupier.
Still I am sequestered
And Gaza is my Roben island;
Not sure into which dawn I will wake.
Freedom is a gamble where citizens live by the edge of their heritage
Where all hope glimmers but is eclipsed by a cloud of violations.
In this darkness the world febrile, is stingy with its light
And I remain a Palestinian, abandoned searching for elusive peace.