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Showing posts from December, 2006

One of the Gang

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By Selma A. Cook Managing Editor - Youth 4 the Future

Basra Days

By Aiman S. Ahmed She lived in this strange country where I am now Before returning to Basra with grandma Father was a teacher, mum played guitar With round-eyed gaze, Hiba watched the moat O free country, why have you caged my friend? O free country, I'm not your salesman! And as I walk your streets, I miss home Where there was no blood of the poor I guess you don't like me anymore Because I oppose your wars of conquest And the price to pay as you trail The footsteps of predatory Uncle Sam Where is my flag, you ask Or do you forget there's a hole in my heart Big enough for a bullet to pass As you rip the carcass of the dead? Beasts are nursed in your clinics But humanity is shattered abroad And Hiba was a child, what do you suppose? O free country, have you seen my friend? O free country, make a thousand amends! I stumble in the dark with your crimes My only respite is to speak out time after time You say I am a supporter of terrorism You say I'm anti