by Carrie Waldron

Created on: June 04, 2008

I am just another of your Zionistic statistics, (check!)
Another man down, another boy, delinquent,
Shot in the chest for tossing rocks at your tanks

Can you feel me? Touch. See how

My hunger for you lingers, my
Anger arranges for revenge but in vain as
Torrents of bullets rush through my hands, feet, head

Forgive me. We are only martyrs. Young friends

Linked, sinking beneath the lingering moonlight
In a puddle of wrong wrought to look like right,
It is our right, red pools from gunshot wounds

Fountains of what I cannot contain.

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