My heart is growing weak
As my body slowly drains
I stand within a loop of backs
And turned, they remain
My country is a blood bath
Yet my calls are unreturned
If it were an oil leak
The world would be concerned
Their eyes watch with silence
Though my blood is pouring thickly
But if that blood was oil
They’d prioritize me quickly
So my heart starts pumping gallons
And they come to my aid
My veins are the pipes
That support their business trade
And they plot a distribution
With my country on the chart
But how do you put a price
On 22 million hearts?
My blood is crude oil
And my children are your taps
So will you help me fix the spill
Before their fuel lungs collapse
If my blood was oil
That you measure by the ton
I will offer you a river
That can flow to the sun
Must my land be wealthy?
And must my blood be grease
For you to shield me from oppression
And invest in my peace?
Yes, my blood must be oil
Before we settle a negotiation
22 million rigs await you
Welcome to my nation.
—–
Noor Hewaidi
Coquitlam, British Columbia, UK