The Last Flight Poem by Fatemeh Tarkashvand

It was summer
You could hear young birds were singing songs
You could hear movement of leaves
The sky was blue and persian gulf was calm
suddenly there was just explosion
Just like 9/11
The smoke,
the shocked birds,
the bodies of children and dolls
And the smell of gunpowder
It was flight number 655
290 passengers and crews
66 of them children
Their bodies couldn't be collected
It was shot by a missle cruiser
USS Vincennes
They were guilty because they were from Iran.
None of victims had enemy
None of them were army
None of them knew why they were killed
Neither in USA
Nor in Persian Gulf
The winners: politicians and weapon factories
The loosers: tearful parents