Free verse poem (does not rhyme)
"My life and your life"
By Ahmad Abu Khattab
You think you know the hard part of life...
Life is crumbling all around you.
Like a rapid river it comes crashing down,
But indeed, you haven't even tasted the beginning of hardship.
Your blood doesn't pour when you walk in the street.
Your skin doesn't peel because it's exposed to phosphorous.
Your eyes don't hurt because a "flash bang" has struck you.
Your body isn't weak because it lacks nutrition.
Your streets are safe because there are no snipers.
Your beaches are safe because there are no mines.
Your houses are stable because there is no shelling.
Your children are safe because there are no tanks.
Your sisters don't get violated throughout the day,
Your women are not mocked when they follow their beliefs.
Your weak are not beaten when they seek some assistance,
Your brothers are not taken away for no good reason.
Shell casings are not what your children play with,
You're able to afford much more sophisticated toys.
Your food doesn't have to last you a week,
For you feast on mountains of quality cuisine.
Your bodies are not scard because of countless surgery,
To remove some shrapnel from a side-winder missile.
Helicopter gunships are not your birds,
Your birds that fly don't shoot at a rate of 3000 to 1.
Barbwire isn't the fence you have for your garden,
The water you drink is not from a gutter.
The jacket you wear is not from the dead,
For you weren't forced to be desprate in winter.
Your earliest memory isn't found in a refuge,
Your favourite sound is not the silence of Kalashnikovs.
Your happiest thought is not receiving a prosthetic limb,
To replace the one you lost from a shell.
Your legal victory isn't winning the right to walk,
To walk on a road that is owned by your family.
Your best friend isn't dead at the age of fifteen,
Gunned down for standing up for their dear old mother.
Your flowing water doesn't flow from your eyes,
Your enemies are not people who earn a living by killing.
Your bed isn't full of uncomfortable gravel,
Used to fill the inside of your worn out mattress.
Your privacy isn't violated because your name is different,
Your legs are not broken because you tried to escape torture.
Your head isn't missing a piece from your skull,
Sniped from a tower for walking home from school.
You didn't learn how to count by counting graves,
You didn't learn how to speak by asking for your mother.
You didn't learn how to run by running for your life,
Because your kind of people were considered expendable.
Your life is nothing short of a glorious luxury,
Indulging in the finest and most perfect of pleasures.
You take it for granted because us humans are greedy,
Always wanting more of this filthy life's pleasures.
Your sadness is greed that has consumed your heart,
You haven't even bared the scars of genocide.
But if you take a look deeper to see what we have,
We do indeed have Allah the All-Mighty.
"My life and your life"
By Ahmad Abu Khattab
You think you know the hard part of life...
Life is crumbling all around you.
Like a rapid river it comes crashing down,
But indeed, you haven't even tasted the beginning of hardship.
Your blood doesn't pour when you walk in the street.
Your skin doesn't peel because it's exposed to phosphorous.
Your eyes don't hurt because a "flash bang" has struck you.
Your body isn't weak because it lacks nutrition.
Your streets are safe because there are no snipers.
Your beaches are safe because there are no mines.
Your houses are stable because there is no shelling.
Your children are safe because there are no tanks.
Your sisters don't get violated throughout the day,
Your women are not mocked when they follow their beliefs.
Your weak are not beaten when they seek some assistance,
Your brothers are not taken away for no good reason.
Shell casings are not what your children play with,
You're able to afford much more sophisticated toys.
Your food doesn't have to last you a week,
For you feast on mountains of quality cuisine.
Your bodies are not scard because of countless surgery,
To remove some shrapnel from a side-winder missile.
Helicopter gunships are not your birds,
Your birds that fly don't shoot at a rate of 3000 to 1.
Barbwire isn't the fence you have for your garden,
The water you drink is not from a gutter.
The jacket you wear is not from the dead,
For you weren't forced to be desprate in winter.
Your earliest memory isn't found in a refuge,
Your favourite sound is not the silence of Kalashnikovs.
Your happiest thought is not receiving a prosthetic limb,
To replace the one you lost from a shell.
Your legal victory isn't winning the right to walk,
To walk on a road that is owned by your family.
Your best friend isn't dead at the age of fifteen,
Gunned down for standing up for their dear old mother.
Your flowing water doesn't flow from your eyes,
Your enemies are not people who earn a living by killing.
Your bed isn't full of uncomfortable gravel,
Used to fill the inside of your worn out mattress.
Your privacy isn't violated because your name is different,
Your legs are not broken because you tried to escape torture.
Your head isn't missing a piece from your skull,
Sniped from a tower for walking home from school.
You didn't learn how to count by counting graves,
You didn't learn how to speak by asking for your mother.
You didn't learn how to run by running for your life,
Because your kind of people were considered expendable.
Your life is nothing short of a glorious luxury,
Indulging in the finest and most perfect of pleasures.
You take it for granted because us humans are greedy,
Always wanting more of this filthy life's pleasures.
Your sadness is greed that has consumed your heart,
You haven't even bared the scars of genocide.
But if you take a look deeper to see what we have,
We do indeed have Allah the All-Mighty.
Not a single word was a lie about my life. O Allah forgive us and help us help our brothers and sisters in Islam. Bless you akhi, and jazak Allahu khayra for sharing this with us. 
