The Little Terrorist

My screams trickle down my face,

My hurt is entwined with my DNA.

My sorrows and grief take over me,

I look to the fair woman in the opposite seat.

She stays poised and calm, undisturbed.

She has had a nice day, with no relatives murdered.

I remember the little girl I saw on the news,

Her red eyes, her limp shoulders, her bloody red shoes,

This little girl was the terrorist

that the Turks feared and fought against.

She had lost her family to their bombs

Her mother, her father and now her home.

And the fair woman opposite me?

she went back home to her family.

1 thought on “The Little Terrorist

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create your website at
Get started
%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close