You had Down syndrome, and Yet they unleashed on you a fierce Combat dog, trained to kill as much as They were all educated to hate. Your name was Muhammad. And Like the Prophet, peace be upon Him, you were also loved, cherished And above anything else, «most praised». Your mother used to care for you, And so did every member of the Camp in Gaza, though plundered By a mob bereft of any sign of faith. You called your killer «my dear», Begging it while it was crunching Your arm, thinking the cruelest aim Could freeze by a gentle entreat. They chose to give you the worst Of deaths, mauled by an animal that Could have learned to walk you «Placidly, amid the noise and the haste»… Instead, they taught it how to kill And slaughter, how to wage a war, In the middle of the night, against Infants sleeping in the hands of fate. Who else would have committed Such evil? Who else, but those outcasts Who gathered around you, like hyenas Do around a carcass in the shade… «The most moral army in the world», They crow about themselves, as if Slaying the weak was righteous, and Wolfing humans alive was straight. What else could they do to show How «moral» they are? What crime Should they also commit, so that the World can tell the lie from the light?
