Another restaurant blown to the wind on the news,
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families dismembered, friends lost, spirits crushed in the dust.
No tears for a martyr, victoms are celebrated,
an eye for an eye, reprisals despatched.
All the cafes in the world won't win you territory,
only a line in the sand, drawn, bloodied and defended.
Explosives to their chest, their obituary to video,
to God and to paradise in a blaze of glory.
How brave can it be to give up ones life
to a singular objective inspired by vanity.
Anonamous death is a soldiers reward,
their home is a hole, their grave is a ditch.
Injury and misery, a shell of ones self,
veterans honored by many, desired by few.
Heroes or freedom fighters, call them what you like,
suicide bombers in my mind at least..., uncommitted.
Coming from an Anglo-Celtic backgroud I have an interest in English history though being of a working class environment my interest is higher than general knowledge but not so accute as to be termed historian.
I can be somewhat political & playing the Devil's Advocate on occasions gives people a false perception of my ideals.