The Ballad Of Cairo’s Sorrow

The Ballad Of Cairos Sorrow ballad

Photo by Bruno Girin

War planes high,
the sky full of rains,
a man cries of death,
though not because of drugs like meth,
Egypt seeking retribution,
for the cruelly cinematic execution,
for 21 men have gone down under,
amid the crying and the thunder,
wings for a life to pay a price,
blood from a knife, they’re nothing nice,
allied armed groups in Libya,
the airstrikes encompassing Syria,
December, January, Sunday, Monday,
who in their right mind would want to stay,
into this blizzard of boiling hatred,
Oh, when will it ever end?

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1 Comment on "The Ballad Of Cairo’s Sorrow"

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Kenneth Miller

I remember the ‘arab spring” and that “facebook revolution” all the time. I was in NY at a conf about social media stuff.
I was in the subway holding a map and a women said, “I’m from there.”
Yea, I am hungry for more poetry about north africa and the middle east. thanks

apparently, facebook was not an adequate container for human aspirations
feed me

I like the way to depict the passage of time in your poem


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