Children, Sweets and Suicide Bombers

by | Aug 27, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

We had stopped by the roadside
Just for a break, get some fresh air
It was good to get out of
Those mobile coffins,
Just to stretch our legs.

A bunch of kids,
Approached us smiling,
Hands out asking for sweets
It was good to see smiles,
We don’t see. That many.

As the kids grew bolder, fooling around
Some of the younger ones appeared
Little boys and girls, five or six
Maybe younger, toddlers
Lots of smiles, lots of chatter.

We did not see him,
The guy in the car
He must have spped-up speed
As he drove towards us

I did not hear a bang,
more like a massive shaking of
The ground and the air around us
We had three men down
But the kids, sweet Jesus the kids.

I was screaming like a madman, hatred in my veins
The kids, bits and pieces of the kids
Strewn around the bloody ground
The wounded we tried to treat
But a kid with no legs is hard to save

Screaming parents, screaming marines, screaming kids
Body parts, blood and bones and pain,
Lord so much pain

I can understand him wanting to take us out
But why the kids?

Based on a report in the Independent of an incident involving Marines from the USMC in the early days in Iraq.


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