ANOTHER POEM FOR DZHOKAR

bleeding the unready, the unaware, is easy

for you, the sniper, the assassin jogging away from the

ticking pressure cooker counting down to the screams

in a stress free life with your hat on backwards.

after the fact sorrow, sympathy, compassion is expected

for you, from some, fools who run from the razor reality of

burning shrapnel death and innocent amputated limbs

in a world tinted rose with shadow blinders on all sides.

once there would have been no ambulance, no trial anticipated

for you, the murderer, would be hunted down and hung from the

nearest sturdy tree to the applause of those left behind

in a country where excuses were whispers torn away in the wind.

driving over your brother, the police, the city of Boston

for you, the so-called victim, the lost one, hiding in a boat bottom and

offering unheard promises to kill or wound again and again

in America where they took you to a hospital to save your worthless life.

dying for the cause, this broken faith, is worth it

for you, for some, who translate difference as hate and sin

wishing for warmth from a cold cell or a colder hell

in a prison where all your promises will be broken.

* * * * *

Want to make a donation? Go to The One Fund and help the victims of the Boston Marathon Bombing or check out Stay Strong Boston and get a t-shirt, too!