Welcome to Poetry.com!

In Gaza,
where the air is thick with the cries of the innocent,
a tragedy unfolds, a scar deepens,
and I ask, when does an Ally stop being an Ally?

You watch from your ivory towers,
your hands clean, your conscience clear,
as the children of Gaza bleed,
as mothers wail over lifeless bodies,
fathers dig graves for their dreams.

Your silence is complicity,
your inaction, a damning verdict,
you are the shadow behind the bomb,
the whisper in the ear of destruction.

Every time you turn away,
every time you close your eyes,
you are complicit,
you are the architect of this genocide.

You fund, you arm, you enable,
you give the tools of death to those
who wield them with impunity,
and then you dare to call them Allies.

You hide behind diplomacy,
behind empty words and hollow promises,
but your hands are stained with the blood of the innocent,
your legacy is written in their tears.

What makes you complicit?
Your refusal to speak out,
your cowardice in the face of atrocity,
your allegiance to power over justice,
your preference for silence over truth.

You stand idly by as Gaza burns,
as lives are torn apart,
and your indifference is a knife in the back
of every man, woman, and child suffering there.

An Ally should stand for justice,
an Ally should raise their voice against tyranny,
but you, you are no Ally,
you are a collaborator in this massacre,
a silent partner in this crime.

How many more must die?
How many more homes must crumble?
How many more futures must be shattered
before you realize your silence is a weapon?

To stand by is to stand for,
and your stance is clear,
you stand for genocide,
for the systematic eradication of a people.
You have chosen your side,
you have chosen power over humanity,
and history will remember you,
not as leaders, but as cowards,
not as peacemakers, but as accomplices to genocide.

The world watches,
the world waits,
and Gaza bleeds.

Your complicity is a poison,
your silence, a betrayal,
and with venom, I ask,
when does an Ally stop being an Ally?
When they allow genocide,
when they choose silence,
when they forget to be human.

With rage, with sorrow,
with a burning need for justice,
I condemn.

You are complicit,
and the blood of Gaza
is on your hands.

Sincerely Still,

Voices for the Voiceless