The death of Bin Laden- a poem

I am seldom at a loss for words. Usually, the problem is that I have too MUCH to say, not too little. I have alot to say tonight, as we learn of the death of a man who never should have walked this earth in the first place. This is not a tribute, sometimes my thoughts just flow better through poetry.

Nobody cried on the day that you died.

There will be no coping or healing.

For any of the few, that stood behind you,

are not capable, themselves, of feeling.

A celebration of death? A strange feeling,

though you know it all too well.
You leave nothing behind but a trail of blood,

and now you follow that trail to hell.

Sacrifice, you know nothing of,

for you'll never step in dignified shoes,

We hope that in the moments before you died,

you felt what it's like to lose.

In the grand scheme of it all, you are but small.

Insignificant as a grain of sand.

Given far too much credit, yet far too weak,

at the mercy of a soldier's hands.

Some say it's too late? Your evil, your hate,

has already been sowed and seeded.

It spreads through your land, in your follower's hands

but they too, will soon be defeated.

Oh but you, not worthy of a soul,

not worthy of a name or this poem.

How you died in vain, finally slain,

your life a waste of it's own.

With your death comes celebration,

we hail your end, your fall

With renewed faith in our Nation.

With liberty and justice for all.

****To those who fight for our freedom: Thank you.****