Juanita
Garcia Vera
TERRORIST:
THE OVERINFLATED EGO
What makes you tick?
Because you have no heart
You hyper-inflate your ego
Like the poisonous blow fish
Making yourself appear
Bigger than you truly are
You are not a warrior
Because warriors negotiate
And only when necessary
Fight the enemy face to face
Hand to hand on the right
With might
Not like a coward lurking
In the shadows
Slithering in the dirt
You are lower
Than slime
Little man
Without much to show
I also fear
But will not be paralyzed
In your threats
Or dwell on the possibilities
I will sleep soundly
In peace, because
My conscious is clear
I fear only God
Because HE will
Judge me
And if on the
Occasion that death
Finds me at your
Designated place
And target date
Well that, too, will be
God’s victory
You might kill
My body
But not my soul
For that belongs
To GOD
And as you clearly
Have shown
You do not know HIM
If you did
You would not
Maim, torture or kill
Innocent children
And anyone you find
Not of your accord
Evil lives in your mind
And in your blood
Bubbling over in self-hatred
Those projects unto others
With destruction
Your soul is dead
It died long ago
When hate entered
Your heart
When the last
Of your enemies is gone
Who will be left to kill,
Your spouse, your brother,
Your children ?
Because they
Too, are in danger
Of your tyranny
Hate leaves
No room for LOVE to exist
DEAD MAN’S HAND
And when
The last man falls
In
pool of blood
So too the flowers
Will die of want
So too the trees
Be
but, matchsticks
That burn like
Memories
Gone with the wind
So too, the rivers
Will bleed thick red
So too the orphan
And widow cry
In fields of sorrow
What can we say?
Of what he played
A game of power
And greed,
A game of chance,
A game of honor,
A game of honor
A game of fools!
Where kings
And queens
Write all the rules
While they pose all the chips
To fall at will
While they instill
The game of hate
Far too distracted
We seem to be
To see the hand
The Dead Man played
© Juanita Garcia Vera
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
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