F This Is Terrorism

This Is Terrorism

By Mark Cantrell

You nurse a burning
Grievance,
Within your festering soul.
Whether genuine or imagined,
Is neither here nor there.
You blame your foe,
For the alleged slur,
But attack another
In your enemy's stead.
Yet this distinction,
Between innocence and guilt,
Really matters not.
For whether you kill the man
Who pulled the trigger,
Or the young mother
Pushing her baby's pram,
Your target is all the same.
Be they white,
Or be they brown,
They all bear the burden of Guilt
At least in your narrowed eyes.
Whether a Mullah at the head
Of your Holy Warriors,
Fighting your 'sacred' cause,
Or the bloke down the pub,
Who blames all the wogs,
Because he's a racist turd.
Or better yet, a man of the West,
Leader of a free Nation;
For when you attack the many
To punish the sins of the one,
You become
Just another
Of those you condemn.
Yes, you are filthy
Terrorist scum.

Mark Cantrell,
Bradford, 9 October 2001

Copyright (c) October 2001. All Rights Reserved.