precious seeds sold, threads of war sewn
the Afghani boy holds little hope, crawling on his shattered home
small brown fingers sift through ash and bone

the child’s chin tilts skyward, he dreamt once he had flown
now confused by bombs and rice dropped together from sand filled sky
once desired to soar with Amazing Grace of the U.S. Air Borne

dark hollow eyes fall, on his mother’s blood soaked groan
a tear lands lost, lifeless remains, womb raised open, a final pleading cry
small brown fingers sift through ash and bone

unforgiving wind stirs, embraces sorrow, moves through him, on the exhale, war is owned
knees buckle, face pressed to altered earth, timid fingers shut her eyes, release life
beneath broken rubble a terrorist is born, cold and alone

he cradles his mother’s crimson stained body, his only home
beyond tears, visions of fear flood through him
small brown fingers sift through ash and bone
beneath broken rubble a terrorist is born