You broke up with the boy you love today,
now you'll write your troubles away
A few rhymes about flowers,
how you gazed into each others eyes for hours
I could write a poem a minute,
if I didn't care that there’d be nothing profound in it
Your verse is transparent,
your lack of depth and substance, apparent
Cute, little romantic poems,
or dark brooding ones about your troubles at home
If you’re capable of insight take care to show it,
until then, don't call yourself a poet.
And the rockets red glare
through the air of Jerusalem
Machine gun fire rains down
spilling the crimson blood of Muslims & Jews
sanctifying this unhallowed holy land
another casualty of this unceasing Holy War
This nation, etched out by a diplomat’s pen
left to men to carve out
on the streets.
Each side committing atrocious sins
to protect their claim to sacred ground.
Peace talk after peace talk…
delivering no such thing.
Muslims redirect their Jihad,
taking their internal struggle
and aiming it at their bitter enemy.
Jews fight for their ONE TRUE GOD,
the same ONE TRUE GOD
in whose name the soldiers of Islam
slay father and son.
Stillness and Chaos ebb and flow
periods of progress thrown to a hault
by intense moments of apocalyptic brutality.
Bullets and stones tear flesh,
incendiary explosion send fragments of
bone, flesh, and blood towards the heavens.
Corpses clutter the ground once tread upon by
Christ and Mohammed.