Spoken Word

March 25, 2010
By , Bethesda, MD
He was just like me
small town
southern belles
class president
never absent
smart.
Just like you
but inside he was
conflicted, seam rippéd
trying to reconcile his
father, mother, figurative brothers
went to prom
sporty, athletic
talkative, respected.
But he became
more extreme
left his home
left his church
his friends
his wife
his son
left his family.
Now he drops bombs
trains killers
cannot see
That what he’s doing can’t solve
the problems of the world
that look the same to me
I see violence
I see lies
I see dead and staring eyes
but while I sit and quietly cry,
He trains killers
drops bombs
cannot see.
In the newspaper clippings his mother still has he is perfect
class president
never absent
smart.
In the newspaper Sunday
In the clippings his sister cannot bear to see
but cannot bear to throw away
he is a killer
terrorist, criminal
a forgotten son who wandered
off the beaten path and found one
he thought was better
one where he did the beating,
he recruited the young men
full of promise
full of hope
with a dream
to become suicide bombers.
to die so others may die
but he was just like me
how?
why?
why did he come to believe
that only hate could beget peace
that his way was the only
right one, the only possible one
how?
why?
how can I be sure that the sadness
in me when I hear of his victories and the deaths
they cause will not turn to fury
just like his





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