I am only seventeen and I can not breathe.
The violence and bombings have intoxicated me.
I can not sleep at night seeing the blood of my people
Strewn all over the street as if they are slaughtered sheeple.
Five car bombs bursting in air, killing 130 civilians living in despair.
Civilians just trying to get to work and make an honest day’s pay.
To take care of their families and find peace along the way.
Commuting back and forth their lives quickly stolen away.
As I walk through the streets the blood is knee deep.
I use the wheelbarrow just given to me to pick up the human meat.
Of body parts and intestines from the ones who left this world.
As their souls were blown from their bodies as if flying pearls.
They say my bloodline goes back as far as Genghis Khan.
Those genes do me no good because I am just another pawn.
Trying to maintain a smile when I say my morning prayers
with a layer of bone and flesh all over the streets while I am there.
How can I not want retaliation or vengeance?
How do I ask for forgiveness for those who slaughtered innocents?
If there is a Hell I might already be there?
Maybe there is a God and he will someday prevail?
He will heal our hearts and minds and make them less disdainful.
He will smite down the infidels who masquerade as the faithful.
He will lift up my people from the generations of painful
wars and battles that have laid their claim full.