Entangled

How will it end, the story of two?
How will it unfold, and begin anew?

My friend Mustafa once held me near:
I was his sister, his friend and his dear.
He said 'you and I are different, in more ways than none.
Where you can walk -- I have to run
Where you can drive -- I wait in line
And where you roam free -- I am confined.
Yes, you and I are different, in more ways than none,
Although I'd much prefer, to think of us as 'one' 
You go to sleep at night
And I -- stand in fear
And this uneven war continues, year after year.
While you go to school, and have your career
I stay behind -- locked away in here. 
I am not asking for pity, 
Nor do I need your understanding.
I just ask that for a moment --
You'll try to be where I am standing.'

Mustafa cried, and shook my hand
And there we were together, sharing our land.

I do not know how this story will end.
But with my friend Mustafah -- I will stand. 
Like olive trees we'll rise together,
Tall and free and trying to be better.
Better than the sum of our ancestry
We'll change the journey of our history
We'll make this story of two -- our story of one
And the cycle of hate will lastly be DONE.

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