The following poem was submitted by Sarah Usmani.

My name is Sarah,
And I was born in Pakistan,
But since unemployment rates were sky high,
My family and I flew away when I was nine.

Now 19, the country that I proudly call mine is 63 years old with a crucial leak in its main plumb line,
But since corrupt politicians make the basis of my country’s spine,
And on the world map, being anywhere but the west is just not fine,
Most multinationals have decided to decline,
The help that they are surely capable to provide.

But from my duty I refuse to resign,
So here I am with a word plan I have devised,
Hoping that most of you will listen,
So the oppressed 14 million may survive.

Now imagine,
Imagine the roofs of your homes torn off from above your heads.

A situation where agony is neck high,
And in a flood of pain you are drenched wet.

Imagine looking to your left and right and finding floating bodies of loved ones who are now dead.

And if that wasn’t enough,
Can you imagine not being able to find the smallest piece of dry land,
to bury your deceased friends?
So you’re forced to walk away,
Because the next wave of flood,
You might not withstand.

Now imagine having to swim over your now flooded farmland,
Knowing that to put bread on table,
You will now have to make new plans all over again.
All your year’s work washed away in a few minutes time span.

Now picture a queue of sick and hungry children, women and men,
Waiting cautiously to hear the noise of the aid helicopter’s fans.

And once the noise is heard and that daily flying machine of hope is seen,
The rush begins.

Little orphaned feet are caught up in a stampede,
Widowed women fight to save their infants struck by a terminal disease,
And burdened fathers fight to get a bite to eat.

Where are my people?
Where are my friends?
Is there anyone out there willing to give me a hand?

These are the thoughts of the 14 million people drowning in pain,
So don’t just sit there and watch in vain.

Seven seas away they sit and wait,
Wondering why everyone’s asleep,
To wake you up, how long will it take?

Nothing’s getting better,
They keep sinking deeper and deeper,
And whose door should they knock on if not yours?
Their president’s not even home.

Where are my people?
Where are my friends?
Is there anyone out there willing to give me a hand?

Now I know that your name and country might not be the same as mine,
But I also know that unlike most multinationals, you have a heart deep down inside.

So help those whose world has turned upside down,
So give them a little more than just a frown.

A little more love,
A little more care,
Show them they’re not alone,
Prove to them you still care.

What are you waiting for?
What is that you fear?
Why do you keep pretending that their screams you can’t hear?
Are you waiting for the ones still alive to drown in their own tears?

They are your people,
They are your friends,
So to lift them up from their suffering, won’t you please give them a hand?