Iraqi Child (a poem). Merry Christmas Iraqi child I hope your feeling well, first of all Iâd like to say Iâm sorry for your hell. I hope your getting ready for your special Christmas day, Jets and bombs not Santa Claus are heading down your way. I hope thereâs someone left alive, a mum who loves you still, Your dad lays dying in the street they had to break his will. You see oh child our leader knows we must repress your land, Husseinâs the name he was to blame for death by our own hand. So now heâs gone and were still there protecting you from hell, Of course you still see fires burn but promise not to tell. You see our leaders a clever man, he wonât admit the blame, Blood on hands from distant lands yet peace is still his claim. Now try to sleep Iraqi child your little teddies near and just outside your window is your life of death and fear. Have sweet dreams Iraqi child of waking up one day And seeing that democracy took mum and dad away. But donât blame us Iraqi child for everything youâve lost, Weâre freeing you from tyranny and your family was the cost. Stop crying now Iraqi child as they wonât admit your pain, Tell daddy to accept defeat or theyâll bomb him once again. Just one second Iraqi child Iâve had another thought, Hussein in jail, justice done, had our day in court. Iâm sorry here Iraqi child I think weâve got it wrong, Killing, bombing, shooting, when weâve said our job is done. And British shores were never under threat from Sad Hussein, Yet invasion went full steam ahead and whoâs the man to blame. Oh no! -it canât be true-the pain hitâs deep inside. Did we end so many lives- without justice on our side? Keep quiet now Iraqi child Iâm trying hard to think, Could Mr Blair look in our eyes and lie without a blink? But if heâs lied Iraqi child then where does that leave you, Alone, in pain and traumatised, at least that part is true. I wonât believe, I canât believe we did all this to you, Smashed your country into bits as we were ordered to. Oh no! my god, donât show to me the reality I dread, A Christmas ghost âa pointingâ to a million people dead. Some say we should not be there- in place within your land, Yet fool was leading dogs of war- I hope you understand. I swear to you Iraqi child that soldiers brave and true, Had faith that they were bringing freedom home to you. They fight for peace Iraqi child they shoot- we shoot some more, They fight for peace Iraqi child yet all they make is war. From where you stand, below their knees itâs hard for you to see, That all the blood thatâs being spilled is for democracy. No-one knows, or cares or shows -a thought for little you, Adults and their guns ablaze fighting all year through. I know that at this very time your little eyes alight, Yet not with dreams of Christmas toys, just noise and death and fright. So sorry now Iraqi child for I donât understand. I wish I could wave magic wand for peace throughout your land. I hope I pray that some day soon your home will find itâs peace, The blood will stop itâs constant flow and genocide will cease. Iraqi child your Christmas day is different to mine, Religious views, different books, born a different time. Yet still I hope you sleep that night at peace within your home, I pray the grown ups with their guns will leave you well alone. For one by one Iraqi child the men who caused this war, Will fall from grace then justice face, ours, then theirs, then more. One man alone Iraqi child Iâm sorry for my sin, I would do more to save your life yet where would I begin. Good night God bless Iraqi child I pray that one day soon, âSome godâ will send a Noahâs arc and take us to the moon. Then we could all stand staring - at that red glow in the sky, And know that planet once called earth is where the humans die. by Andy Gregory.