Nadalia Bagratuni

Rookie (12/25/1975 / Armenia)

A Call For A National Oil Plan - Poem by Nadalia Bagratuni

The mission was simply,
Tthe conflict is great,

We are facing the devil,

And we can't back down,
On 9/11 they almost destroyed a whole town.

First, there was New York
And then Washington D.C.

What would have happened if their plan
Had worked,

We would have had no
Capital, World Trade Center or Pentagon!

All because of some sad freak-
Who kidnapped a religion,
And turned it against the meek,
The young, and the innocent.

With a promise of heaven,
These people kill,
Are their rewards just, or merely unreal?

Look deep inside of this plea,
For you see we are in a war,
A war is truly right at our door!

Not around the corner, or down the street,
It is at our doorsteeps, and we caan't be meek!

We are fighting for much more than just the terrorists in Afghanstan!

It is war of worlds,
A confllict of a region,
A conflict of convenience,
And a conflict of religions.

No matter who wins,
There will be a loser,
The problem to be who will be the chooser?

I finally sit in the seat of my SUV,
Pulling up to the gas pump,
And I realize, I'm supporting the wrong guys.

By buying big cars,
And guzzling the gas,

All I have done is give money to these sorry sons of a gun,
All of these terrorists have gotten rich of money,
We have the money,
They have the gas,

They make the profit,
And they get mad!

Something is wrong here,
They have highjacked us.

They blame the United States for their plight,
But they don't want to give up their ill gotten gains,
Give up thie billions or help their poor.

Surely they don't have too,
That is why they have us,

We get kicked around, spit on, and cussed,
But look at us, we have no one to blame.

All we have to do is to turn off their money supply,
Let them eat their own oil,

This poilcy may seem crude,
But they think they have us over a barrel

I tell you not, we have them,
All we have to do is develop a national oil plan

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Read poems about / on: money, war, sorry, sad, people, heaven, world, car, son, work

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 6, 2005

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