Oh Mama, oh Mama, what have you done?
Why have you borne him like every mothers' son?
Don't you know that he's the one.
Chosen for the evil done?
Chosen from Mother Nature's girth,
chosen to save the Earth?
But he is lacking; he is lame.
He only wants to play the game.
The one he learned at his mother's breast,
an old story, you know the rest.
He was so innocent; he was so wise.
Why did you fill him with a pack of lies?
Why did you train him like a dog,
Instead of teaching him Socratic dialogue?
Why did you protect him,
from what you thought was sin?
By overprotecting him,
you let the evil in.
And so the evil is unleashed,
and rampant upon the land.
Your evil son's legacy is unraveling,
and evident on every hand.
But you know not what you have done,
for he is your only son.
Oh Mama, oh Mama what have you done?
What have you done, oh what have you done?
Palestinian Mother and Child
© Irina Hale
Read War's End, the Novel
Copyright 2010 © Ronald W. Hull