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by Kimbo
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Tragedy · #1299553
Poem about injustice
Rivers of grog flowing in the Territory, making our Prime Minister mad,
Rivers of blood drowning children, while flowing down the streets of Baghdad.
Little black children being abused and it's breaking our Prime Minister's heart,
Little Iraqi child sees the bomb that's about to blow him apart.

Black man in the Territiory spends his money on drugs and booze,
They can't take away anymore, for he's got nothing left to lose.
Little girl's innocence stolen as he creeps slowly into her bed,
But we are coming to help you, at least that's what the Prime Minister said.

He'll solve the  problem by taking away their money, their wine and their kegs,
And he'll help the kids in Iraq by taking away their arms and their legs.
Old black man with white hair and beard, and a flagon in his hand,
Do you dream of dream time, when this used to be your people's land.

Iraqi family run for cover dreaming of how things used to be,
Broken hearted family crying out, we don't want your democracy.
Little black boy waits for the sun to set, longs for the cover of night,
He can't talk to anybody now for only he knows his abuser was white.

Black women cries, she knows what's coming, can smell the wine on his breath,
Iraqi women cries, another day all she can smell is fear and death.
One woman braces herself as she feels the fist connect with her face,
The other dreams of another life in another time and another place.

The young black man surrenders his dream and he hangs at the end of a rope,
The Prime Minister has a plan, he said we got to give the people some hope.
The young Iraqi steals a gun and says allah, all this I do for you,
His mother pleads as he leaves, come back my son, I can't lose you too.

But the Prime Minister says as he sends our young ones off to fight a war,
Just let me know if your short on the ground and I'll just send you some more.
And the drunken black with a child on his lap who knows what she has to do,
Looks at the sky with a tear in her eye and says Mr Howard I thank you.

Rivers of grog in the Territory and rivers of blood in Baghdad,
Victims of abuse and terror, children living in a world gone mad.
Black man, Arab and Muslim, the world will one day hear your screams,
How you became the victims, of a crazy white man's dream.

Written by Kim Ambrose  Copyright 2007
© Copyright 2007 Kimbo (kimnros at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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