Kabul [Part 1]

Sunrise has come to Kabul
The mountains make it a pretty sight
I miss my little brother Abdul
They took him in the night

Some call me Zaphira
Like the pretty blue jewel
Last week Father sold my sister
We were out of heating fuel

The Old Ones say we’re to pray
Can’t He hear me cry?
Maybe Koran says it is wrong
But I must ask Him why

Why does He let us suffer
We’re good in this our home land
Please end this horrid war
PBUH, I raise my tiny hand

Sunset is upon Kabul
Painting the hills all red
I beg the foreign soldier
Say not that Abdul is dead

The blue beret turns away red-eyed
As Momma clutches for the door
Night is returning for Kabul
We have lived thru one day more


About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on May 20, 2012, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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