This poem commemorates those that perished in the Armenian Genocide because not many are even aware of this event that took place in history. After countless nights of writing research papers on this subject, I wanted to communicate this topic in a different medium—one of my first poems:
One hundred and two years of grief,
Only another one instance where hate has won and submerged to the tops of the
Euphrates like the
bodies of those slain,
One hundred and two years of injustice,
Zero sanctions taken in response to this gash in our world’s timeline
One hundred and two years of division
Leading to two communities separated on boundaries of religion and politics
One hundred and two years of 1.5 million lives gone
Unnoticed, unidentified, and unnoted,
Because injustice doesn’t halt
At the borders of action
Consequently extending in spite of our inaction.
Bloodied, tortured and left out in the deserts to dry
Victims of the Armenian Genocide have yet to be compensated
For crimes against all of humanity.
Without a state to call home
Roaming in between territories of torture, insulated by imperialism,
Resolution is far from reach.
102 years of too much waiting and not enough weighing
The consequences of lack of reflecting on history
And where it may take us next.
A boiling entanglement of tension and hatred
Waiting to burst
Blasting any peaceful negotiations out of the picture.
Foreign and diplomatic relationships
Threatened to be severed by Turkey
If any one nation points out their
Barbarous, brute and cold-blooded murders.
Nations must stand together
Against such propelled propaganda.
Understanding the implications human rights abuses
Have on our past, present, and preceding societies
Is the only way Progress will be made.
When a history textbook is taken off a shelf,
Shouldn’t there be some sort of script
Saying what I’m telling you right now?
The solution to solving this problem,
Is identifying that this is a problem.
Because if injustice is allowed to continue
Our voices become distant
And diluted.
