They shot the evil dictator’s sons
a thousand times showed
mangled bodies,
held together by scotch tape,
for the world and their father to see.
Many rejoiced the murdered sons were not good men,
they had lived by the sword.
Now uneasy, not yet fully formed questions float to the surface
in good men’s conscience
what gave the occupiers of Iraq the moral right
to commit this crime
and will not the sons be
the stuff legends are made of:
The heroic last stand against a superior army?