Gratitude, ripples and waves of it,
Stem from the depth of my heart
To the tip of my tongue
For the grief and empathy that you disseminate,
For Uyghurs, my people.

Ineptitude, the void it lives in
Lies deep in the soul
Of my people who stand by
And watch the tyranny as it unfolds,
For all Muslims are my people.

Fury, sparks and flames of it
Erupts from my mind
For why do you not care
When my people are at the mercy of your people
From Palestine to Kashmir and beyond?
Does your outrage demand that I be a victim of your enemy?

Indifference, to the dense growth
Of selective grief and outrage
That your people share for my people.
We are simply the pawn, the sacrificial lamb,
That you stand by until you strike the queen.
Thus lies at the tip of my tongue, gratitude.