Cathedral light stages choreographed romance,
Taylor Swift's perfect proposal performance
whilst BBC headlines wedding speculation
Gaza burns in its margins.
Breakfast telly dissects her ring finger
as children's hands grasp Rafah stones.
Red tops hunger for venue predictions,
camps transform to burial grounds.
Her silence drowns like church bells,
muffling cries from hospitals without medicine.
Media machinery devours fairy tale fiction,
front pages bloom with engagement dreams
whilst genocide hides on page seventeen
tucked between crosswords and weather forecasts.
She champions her own glass ceiling
whilst ignoring concrete crushing women worldwide.
Speaks of empowerment in penthouse interviews
whilst empowered women get buried alive.
She is architect of mass distraction,
not princess but engineer of diversion.
Her white feminism fortress stands tall,
flirting with supremacist shadows
whilst Palestinian women give birth in rubble,
whilst Sudanese mothers flee with empty arms,
whilst Afghan girls forget classroom dreams.
A platform of 280 million followers
larger than most nations' populations
yet she wields it only for brand building,
only emerging for Kamala Harris,
another cog in capitalism's machine,
another servant of the same empire
that funds the very bombs falling on Gaza.
Her endorsement rings hollow
supporting a woman who backs genocide,
who serves the military-industrial complex,
who offers no true feminist liberation,
just another face on the same brutal system.
Devotees flood comments with wedding prayers,
building Pinterest dreams whilst children whisper last words.
Fans trending #EngagementGoals
whilst Palestinian mothers disappear
crushed beneath viral rubble.
Remember Hala and Ahmed's wedding planned for spring?
Their invitations turned to ash with their hands.
Remember Layla who saved for her white dress,
now wrapped in white shroud instead.
Remember Omar's proposal ring,
pulled from debris with his severed finger.
Love stories that never bloomed:
Fatima's engagement party became her funeral,
Khalil's honeymoon plans became evacuation routes,
Nour's wedding venue became mass grave,
Samir's bride became widow before becoming wife.
Taylor's romance headlines flood the feeds
whilst Gaza's romance headlines bleed:
"Couple Found Embracing in Rubble"
"Newlyweds Die on Wedding Night"
"Bride's Body Recovered Wearing Wedding Dress"
Millions debate dress designers,
not one fights for human dignity.
Reception venues spark religious debates
whilst sacred sites become ash.
Guest lists discussed like peace treaties
whilst peace dies in powerless delivery rooms.
Her feminism excludes the feminine voices
screaming under occupation,
her girl power ignores girls
whose power got cut from electricity.
She builds empires on empowerment rhetoric
whilst imperial bombs silence
the very women she claims to champion.
The power to shift discourse sits unused
280 million ears that could hear Gaza's cries,
280 million hearts that could break for Palestine,
280 million minds that could question empire.
Instead: silence, complicity, calculated cowardice.
When she finally spoke politically,
it was for Harris, the prosecutor turned politician,
architect of mass incarceration,
defender of the status quo,
feminist only in branding,
progressive only as performance.
White feminism's comfortable borders
never crossed into uncomfortable territories
where women's rights mean right to survive,
where glass ceilings mean actual ceilings
that don't collapse on sleeping families.
Manufactured fan hysteria
drowns manufactured genocide consent.
Rings amplified over ethnic cleansing,
clickbait proposals eclipse mass murder proposals.
Feeds saturated with romantic speculation
whilst lifelines—aid, hope, breath
get systematically severed.
Her engagement breaks news
whilst broken bones, broken souls
bury in broken silence.
Wedding announcements flood channels
whilst Gaza's engaged couples
never reached their altar.
The love stories that never were:
Teenagers who planned futures together,
now planning nothing.
Couples who saved for homes,
now homeless eternally.
Promises whispered in darkness,
now darkness eternal.
Children who would have been born
from this love,
never drawing breath.
Anniversaries never celebrated,
growing old together never achieved.
Endless circus rotation
romance, drama, relevance manufactured
whilst genuine relevance gets buried
between main act intervals.
When market research shows
genocide indifference polling badly with Gen Z,
when platforms punish political silence
harder than political noise,
when neutrality shifts
from brand protection to brand poison,
she'll rediscover platforms,
excavate ethics,
perform awakening.
But awakening arrives too late
for those never again waking.
Mark this complicity.
Mark who chose wedding bells over sirens.
Mark whose silence got sanctified
whilst sanctifying nothing sacred.
Mark feminism that excludes the feminine,
empowerment that ignores the powerless.
The dead remember the living's priorities.
History judges our headline choices.
Truth will outlast the hashtags.
Engagement means nothing
when we engage only
our entertainers,
our comfortable causes,
our profitable politics.
Taylor Swift writes no love story
that includes love for all women.
Media tells no truth
about whose stories matter.
Fans build no community
that extends beyond privilege.
All shareholders
in calculated compassion corporations,
investors in selective solidarity business.
Wedding industrial complex churns on
manufacturing romance consent
whilst genocide excuse manufacturing
passes unremarked, unreported, unresisted.
The altar of white feminism
sacrifices women of colour
for comfortable consumption.
280 million followers,
zero moral leadership.
The biggest platform,
Has the smallest conscience.
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