Tortured by the news, I fall apart.
those in the Diaspora call for bombs
one of them from Australia, here in Indonesia
tells me "you are not Iranian"
"you cannot even speak Iranian"

the was my last Persian close friend
all that was family disappears

We watch war crimes with deadlines
after today I proclaim to never again
pay attention
to the news, to what's new
I'm going to spend time in silence
where even God can't find me

There is no therapy
for the 3 million displaced from Tehran
nor the 1.1 million in Lebanon
growing each and every day

hate makes more terrorists than friends
haste also makes me want to pretend

the only thing I can find worthwhile
is to wake and walk the beach
take my soul
why couldn't I have been one of the human shields?
currently putting their bodies
on the bridges and power plants
you see, this is why I can't witness "Kabar"
the word for news
is the same in Persian, Arabic and Indonesian
although nothing is actually new
now I will go back to studying what is old
wake me when all is gone
and this hell doesn't exist anymore.

Mosab Abu Toha - Under the Rubble

Mosab Abu Toha - Yamma Mwayyel El-Hawa