A poem

A young Somali brother wrote this poem. He's only in high school but based on his writing, he is wise beyond his years and more motivated than most adults to be a positive change agent in Somalia someday.

Apathy, A Pity

It seems the rain falls in sync with my emotional content
It’s not the dark clouds, the loud sounds, nor the branches bent
I don’t think about me, think about money, or waist time with superficiality
Because in my heart I’ll always see none other than the poor man’s reality
When Somalia’s name is mentioned on the news, on T.V., why must we turn a blind eye?
When there was once a time when our people needn’t cry, nor die
The time has arrived not to forget the past, rather to reconstruct it
Keeping in mind our potential, our future, please, don’t be reluctant
Somalia will someday, inshallah, become the greatest of nations
Home not just to us but to beige, blue and Asian
Because you see, discrimination is the purest form of hatred
And in your heart I hope lies only good, purity, and cupid
Go ahead, go to Starbucks, have a cup of coffee, chat
But the next time you spend that 5 dollars, just remember that-
The day Somalia rises is the day the Diaspora stand up
The day we raise our standards, give back, no hands up
You see we all want to help, we can claim we do, or claim we don’t
But keep in mind, the suffering extends beyond your family, your tribe, your old home
So instead of thinking about the problems, dreaming solutions, and clinging on to your apathy
Remember, you can make a difference, you can save a life, you can truly help.
I try, and I’m just six-teen