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in my living room watching i am not laughing. cause when it gets tence iknow what might happen. the world is cold. the bold men take action,have to react,or get blown into fractions. however years old, there's something to see, another person my age drug under a jeep taken and bound and found later under a tree. i wonder if he thought the one would be me. do you see, the soliders, there out today. they brush the dust from the bulet proof vests away. its ironic at times like this you but a bomb blew the mosque up yesterday. theres bombs on the buses, bikes, roads, inside your market, your shops, your clothes. my dad, he's got a lot of fear i know, but enough pirde not to let it show. my brother had a broken book he would hold with pride, a little red cover with a broken spin. on the back he hand wrote a qout inside: "when the rich wage war it's the poor who die." and meanwhile the the leader just talks and stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay, the rest of the world at the end of the day both scared and angery, like what did he say?