A Mandate For Hypocrisy - Poem by Bernard Franklin
As diplomacy fails around the world
the old allies group together,
they despatch the western war machine
for old Saddam’s head to sever.
As western warships fill the Gulf
with their weapons cocked and ready,
the allied troops prepare to fight
their resolution calm and steady.
Deep underground in a Baghdad lair
the Iraqi junta plots its fate,
do they have weapons of mass destruction
that the world would love to hate.
If they had anthrax hidden in hospital wards
and nerve gas stocked in schools,
the junta knew that children’s deaths
would show the west as fools.
With the decisions made and orders sent
there is no turning back,
it’s the bombs that have the courage now
stuff the politicians lack.
Five hundred warplanes bomb the land
destroying everything in sight,
the Arabs with no form of defence
with sticks and stones do fight.
Iraqi land so cruelly scarred
their blood that’s spilt in vain,
Iraqi lives just tossed away
their people full of pain.
After four days and nights of hell on earth
there’s two hundred thousand dead,
dusty fallout covers all the land
and the rivers run crimson red.
As the middle east erupts in fire
like a cauldron brought to boil,
the western world protects its friends
if they’re prepared to sell them OIL.
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