Friday, February 27, 2009

Eight Years in Afghanistan (Part 3)

The fires raged and uranium burned,
Ash, smoke, haze, engulfing all ferns.
I soon got a cough and a fever too
I did survive, but almost died of the common flu.

The young men grew strong and overtook all the old
For it is the weak that perish in war.
Little swaddling babies - old people too,
According to Bush, they had to die! It's true!

They say bin Laden's still around,
Hiding out in caves.
Some people praise him, but with his killing,
I don't want to be associated with his name.

But I am Afghan, that's all I know is true
So that means I'm vapid, depraved and enslaved
and surely not worth anything too.

And all I see is pointless tanks kicking up dust
and making a coup.
Beware! Is it Blackwater?
Better run to the zoo!

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