Let them hold the pen
and write their own destiny
rewrite all our wrongs
write away the suffering
write verses about springtime
instead of winter,
write verses about laughing
instead of crying,
dancing instead of dying
let them write lines about life.
The people hunger
let them relax and eat figs
let them enjoy peace
and drink their tea in the shade
without bitterness and fear
let them hold the pen
and write verses about love
and the sun and moon,
about the flowers growing
and the two rivers flowing
let them drink knowledge
again, instead of poison
let them write the truth
let them tell their history
of math and astronomy
and technology
and medicine, let them heal
the wound must be cleaned
but let them clean it themselves
let the people of Iraq
take hold of the pen
now, after too many years
let them write their fate
let them have milk and honey,
let the poets write again
they too have language
let them use it as they have
for millennia
let us find the translations
and read what we’ve long ignored
lets find them standing
by the ruins of their home
speaking timeless words
words that we refused to hear
in a tongue we’ve tried to slice
let’s put down the knife
lets sit in the shade with them
but only listen
we’ve already said enough
it’s time to give back their pen
soitgoes1984 