Sunday, May 15, 2011

Abbotabad Blues

In the city of Abbotabad,
The US killed a man called Osama,
A bit of a bastard he was,
But his death caused too much drama.

The Al-Qaeda will not vanish,
Like a damn magic trick,
And the rhetoric arguing otherwise,
Only just makes you sick,

This wasn't even a won battle,
Let alone the terror war,
Don't they realise a little ointment
Does not cover a global scar?

And so the idiots justify,
Ten years of bloodied Afghan and Iraqi soil,
Try and convince us that the thousands lost,
Were not for a few drops of oil.

As if one life was worth,
The thousands of innocents killed,
As if this would make us forget,
The lies told and the coffins filled.

They celebrate it as victory,
Not realising it is so hollow,
Their actions will bite back,
Their poisoned fruits they'll have to swallow.

Because the world is fucked up,
More now than ever before,
And in bringing it to this place,
The 'Allies' too have a pretty good score.

And so they dance,
Laugh and sing on the street,
Unaware or perhaps ignoring,
The quicksand still beneath their feet.

2 comments:

Jayan said...

Appreciate the sentiment, but the poem could have done with a sense of the metre. And rhyming osama with drama-yikes! You can certainly do better as your other poems testify.

Arjun said...

Thanks again and I really appreciate your comments.

This one was not really supposed to be posted, but I did it anyways because I found it funny.