Kash Baloch — Poetry on Identity, Love, and Survival

I close my eyes and hide behind my hands, try to explain but no one seems to understand. The world itself is crying out for help, as we continue to meander from the truth and squander our wealth on ourselves. We could have saved the children that turned into tyrants and unjust kings, educated our siblings and taught them to do the noble thing. Instead we turned the other cheek, veiled but rarely modest or discreet, hoping to never encounter poverty within our own streets. Feral children fearlessly face famine and frustration, genocides and war have become the cause that they live to die for. But instead we feign ignorance and dance to rhythmic beats. If I could change the world with my hands or even with my pen, I would serve the Earth's inhabitants and help them feel complete again. How fair is it for us to build castles when they can only build theirs in the sky, injustice and punishment are their only lullabies. Women in the Middle East are attacked for thei...

Defeated, I turned to the Gods and berated them for the way I was mistreated. I was your punching bag for far too long, your abuse became the lyrics of my pathetic song. Days blurred into nights, as I awaited for the strength inside to flee or fight. I ran for the hills once I realized that you were the poison that would lead to my demise. Cries of agony and confusion built the foundation for my new life, one devoid of you, colourful and bright. I was misunderstood in the days of your tyrannical empire, until I realized my identity had been replaced by one of a liar. I lost touch with myself, no longer knew the colour of my own soul. I see with greater clarity, that you were the reason why my heart felt bleak, and blackened like coal. The fire inside died out, leaving me cold and shivering with mistrust. I turned to many in my time of need, but they just shook their heads in disgust. They no longer saw the majesty that once lived within my eyes, instead they saw the desperatio...