Terrorism One Two Three
Terrorism One Two Three
By Arley Steinhour 120215
Today, it's somewhat vogue, to be,
What some folk call, Syrian Refugee,
Age eighteen, and up to Thirty Three,
In fine, fighting fiddle, but gratefully.
The wives and kids, were left at home,
In a war-torn land without a phone,
No food, or water, to stay alive,
That's O K, once here, he'll thrive.
Nice place to live, food stamps, and more,
Without a job-skill, we can't show him the door,
A Taxi Cab, he'll be allowed to drive,
By Refusing 'Fairs,' 'Trust' takes a nosedive.
In the Western World, they then disappear,
Anyone searching for them, get Kicked in the rear,
It's almost as if leaders want them out of sight,
Until, there's a call for them, to come and Fight.
People will worry, about where they be,
The stress, is Terrorism, one, two, three,
Creating a mood, of panic, and woe,
Confuses the mind, as to where to go.
Oh, they'll give you a chance to 'convert,'
To their way of thinking, or lie in the dirt,
Their god, says 'where foot falls,' must be taken,
It won't be long, before, Freedom is Forsaken.
AMEN
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