Two Thousand and Ten

We will be Arabs
They will be Jews
 
How will God choose

They will be Arabs
We will be Jews
 
What is the news?

It is Two Thousand and Ten
We are at it again
 
My son of the year
1990
Was born of a tortured land
Yet his smile was the sun
Of a new day begun
His laughter
The wind over sand
 
His eyes of absolute innocence
A Peace
Would surely expand

My son of the year
1990
Whose hand grew up in mine
Lies at my feet
His life extinct
We are at it again

When it was Two Thousand and Ten
It was time for this to end 

They may be Arabs 
They may be Jews 

Just stop

 God And Life
Are abused

_

Egal Bohen