Al Faris International School (Riyadh, Saudi Arabia)
It was when mom grinned at me
and mumbled that we were at peace
Before I could even nod and agree
Bombs were unleashed, and gunshots wouldn't cease
In a matter of seconds, we became the criminals and the police
Etched cries plugged my ears
As my house burned in flames
My eyes drowned in crystal tears
Guns, tanks, bombs and planes
They demolished the memories I cherished through the years
Transforming a childhood home to ashes and remains
I yelped out for my family
For all I could see was blood
Raging with anxiety, I ran aimlessly
In an ocean of bricks, stones and mud
Revolutions shouted their desire for freedom
Whilst attacking mine
They spit lethal words of no wisdom
Damn that cursed shrine
Under the burning sun, I flare
Beneath the dim moon, I pray
Oh how do they dare
To snatch my innocence away
The world shoves mics and cameras in my face
"Did you miss your school?"
"We know how it feels to be in your place"
'Am I your reporting tool?'
Thank you! for now I'm the fuel!
That ignites media to senselessly repeat the same old story!
For the world carves our scars then demands us to be sorry!
For the money! For the power!
Cheer louder as our lives turn sour
For the rights you can't deny!
Cheer louder as we rot and die
So tear my skin open
And step in my shoes
Will you bear a heart that’s broken?
Will you bear a life of blues?
So tear my skin open
And step right in
Will you bear a dead family member every now and then?
Will you bear the cold when you grow thin?
Helplessly, we seek to survive
Lacking water, food or warmth
We manage to remain alive
It's not the blankets or profit that aids us to sleep at night
It's not your pity that dissolves our everlasting fright
It's not your pointless thoughts that save us from being drowned
It's our dead parents six-feet underground…
Profoundly, thank you for I who was called free
Am now constantly labelled as a 'refugee'
Mariam Salem, born on the 26th of August, began her writing expedition at the age of 7 in exploration of her true inner self. It was around that age that other arts journeys started too. In an encounter of who she is, she was definite of what she wanted to be. She grew up determined with a strong will of flying to her dreams unconditionally. Mariam considers every poem a step closer to her goals. Her poetry might seem about dreams or death but mysteriously communicates a deeper symbolic meaning if deconstructed.