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?