The lovers in Iraq have cried,
And the lovers of Bush's oil wars have died in sighs,
Looking west to their beloved homes,
The bosom of life and light,
Now Mangled burnt carbon of uranium babies,
Who confront my suffering
And indeed, I am small --
Only crying for a woman
Who doesn't love me at all.
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1 comment:
i enjoy your poetry.
you should listen to
adam green. you'd get
a kick.
www.mimingminds.blogspot.com
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