Heroes?
The sky is azure
Except for easterly dust clouds
Bombed out dwellings?
Delightful whiffs of poppies
Fields of the sweetest fantasy
Guarded by blue caps
The biggest harvest for years
Drug lords are rich
Armour plated four wheels
But they will never be safe
Afghanistan
A place for those who like wars
An Eden for contract killers
The Taliban will be victors
When smoke rises above Kabul
So, how safe am I?
Sitting in the spring sun
In my backyard
Getting a deep rich man’s tan
Is it cordite I can smell?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem