Hanging Out with Saddam
So you've had your trial
You've made your peace
And in a little while
Your life will cease.
So at the end
Of a new rope
Your nation will send
Up cheers of hope.
So Mr. Butcher of Bagdad
As you drop through
We won't be sad
To be rid of you.
While scholars are debating
I must secretly confess
I hope the 70 virgins waiting
All have PMS.
You've made your peace
And in a little while
Your life will cease.
So at the end
Of a new rope
Your nation will send
Up cheers of hope.
So Mr. Butcher of Bagdad
As you drop through
We won't be sad
To be rid of you.
While scholars are debating
I must secretly confess
I hope the 70 virgins waiting
All have PMS.
Labels: Poetry
posted by Frustrated Writer | 6:30 AM
6 Comments:
The virgins will probably all say, "Don't you wish you had some of this, Babykiller?"
ROFL!
It's offical now.
This was a funny poem!
ha! he'll wish he was in hell!
Brenda says that would be a special kind of hell.
Personally, the images of families frantically scrambling through the soft earth in front of that big prison looking for, and finding the bodies of their loved ones stuck with me. It is too bad that the spin doctors in Washington and London don't want to show these images. As well as the images of Kurdish children turning black and swelling up in the hot sun after being killed by "yellow rain".
This is the reason for the rope. It was too good for him.
The only sad part is that so much evidence and knowledge of atrocities died with him. Makes me wonder just what was the hurry...who would benefit from him taking knowledge to the grave, and why did they execute him before the other two trials were done?
I dunno. I saw the footage of the hanging, and I still can't muster the enthusiasm to cheer for murder...
But, I suppose I can giggle at the thought of 70 virgins on the rag nonetheless... Do they have little disposal boxes in virgin bathrooms for angelic, bloody tampons?
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