A free-verse poem about the aftermath of a drone strike.
|The family sits around the dinner table conversing,
laughing, eating their evening meal when suddenly
a terrific explosion rends the nighttime air.
Shattered buildings, shattered plans, shattered dreams …
utter destruction claims the lives of the man’s
wife and child within the rubble, while he
somehow survives to be hospitalized for weeks.
Another successful drone strike has killed
its target terrorist, who was staying next door.
The man and his family had been peaceful.
He worked as an office worker in a government
building, merely trying to feed his family
and keep them safe from the war and from
the atrocities that have invaded their world.
Wondering what his family had ever done
to deserve their fate torments him constantly.
Two months later this man, embittered and filled
with rage, seeks his revenge by calmly walking
into a crowd. Under his coat he wears a bomb vest.
In one hand he holds the trigger to the bomb.
In his other hand he grips a picture of his beloved
dead wife and their innocent child.
A tight smile crosses his lips as he squeezes both.
His last thought is “Do the fools not understand
their drones make more terrorists than they kill?”
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