They GROW up so fast…

Three sons the Islamic mother did bear,

All now dead somewhere over there,

Three strapping boys raised never to scare,

Martyrs they are now, for their religion they did die, not fair…

Mother did speak of her sons to others,

She did speak with pride to other mothers,

Three there were all looking alike,

Triplets in the Islamic world is rare,

Each religious conviction like that of their brothers…

Their grandmother did remember them,

Watched them she did as they grew,

They did know it forwards and back,

Their bible, the Qur’an, never did their learning slack…

Ah, they do grow up so fast,

Young men they become wanting not to die the last,

Strapped with explosive, C-4 the best, no dying breath did they gasp,

Not a cowards way to die, or so they think,

I guess I should say herein right now instead,

Ah, they do BLOW up so fast…

          © ed ~ 8/12/05