City of my birth, no longer mine.
Infidels control and rule my town.
Because of this I have,
no job, no hope of one,
work has gone to
people not like us.
They maim, they kill,
they execute my son.
No love just hate I feel!
I have no expectations.
Violence rules this city.
They say make jihad, kill infidel,
kill other sect, they’re not like us,
Who are you to see their worth,
Why should you care for them.
Allah pleased, he’ll treat you well.
So strap bomb on,
By car you’ll reach your goal,
along a road and then a street.
It’s busy, people everywhere,
shopping, chatting, walking,
children going to school.
No danger there, but danger feared,
their eyes are everywhere.
Walk to target from the car,
making carefree glances everywhere,
goal is reached,
give silent prayer,
press here,
bomb explodes.
You’ll fragment, disintegrate,
and eradicate our hated foe.
Vengeance done,
Allah pleased.
Go now.
Bob Blackwell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/baghdad-3/
