You call me “terrorist,” but you turn blind eyes
When I am the one being terrorized.

Where are you to call out the terrorists, when a man rapes my mother because of the headscarf she wears?
Where are you to call out the terrorists, when I walk to the store, and am harassed all the way there?

You call us “terrorists,” but fail to see
The irony of your own hypocrisy.

Where are you to call out the terrorists, when a bomb falls on my city streets?
Where are you to call out the terrorists, when your “noble” country sends them in fleets?

You call us “terrorists,” but when will you know
That terrorists will not distinguish, and will try to hurt us both?

Where are you to call out the terrorists, when, from home, they chase me away?
Where are you to call out the terrorists, when they drag me back the next day?

You call us “terrorists,” but do you realize
That the children you label release chilling cries
In response to the horror they see with their innocent eyes?

Where are you to call out the terrorists, when they silence those screams?
Where are you to call out the terrorists, when they move to those extremes?

You call us “terrorists,” but why isn’t it clear
That I and most others do not volunteer,
And only request safety and relief from this fear?

And so I ask you this,

Where were you to call out the terrorists, when my family was tortured and killed as a result of hate?
Where were you to call out the terrorists, when I, too, suffered the same fate?
Where were you to call out the terrorists, when I lay in the mud?
Where were you to call out the terrorists, when I was killed in cold blood?

 

 

 

Minna Banawan is a senior in high school approaching graduation. She loves to write poetry and can often be seen with her journal and colorful pens. Minna lives in North Carolina with her parents and little brother until she moves away for college. Minna is an aspiring psychologist and motivational speaker.