In the ghetto, I use to think I had it bad
Until I came to Iraq's capital, baghdad
Theres so much history, that lye in this country
Riddled with killings and bombings, everyone seems grumpy
When will the bullets stop going, up and down range
I wonder will this country, ever change
The thought of peace here, seem so strange
There's no one person, you can point the blame
Theres one thing about our country and theirs, that I feel is the same
We are both victims, of a political game
Create peace through violence, its all a shame
when its all over, what will we gain
With each passing day, the more I miss home
The nights are short, and the days are long
Sometimes it feels right, and other times wrong
Cannot be weak, I must remain strong
Cause my daughter waits, for daddy to come back home.
Daniel Chapman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/iraq/
