i feel a pain unbeknownst to most
not pity, yet not understanding
i feel ashamed of the fact that
they take His name before
slaughtering the innocent, the
crying.
i feel grief for those who have lost
i feel sorrow for those not found
i feel anger at these holy men
who take religion into their own
hands.

By: Cedric McClester

Sadly Paris is
Feeling the ravages
Of those heartless savages
Whose numerous miscarriages
Of jihad on the average is
A total mischaracterization
Of what they claim is the Muslim nation
And frankly speaking I’m losing patience

This I hope you understand
There’s no justification in the Qu’ran
For what they do to their fellow man
As if it’s part of Allah’s Plan
Show me the sunnah if you can
That allows aggression in any land
Things have gotten out of hand
If everything you do is banned

You can spread your hate
But I have to state
There’ll never be a califate
That’s solely built on one man’s hate
It will crash and burn under its own weight
And heaven help those who participate
For them I fear it’s much too late
And that’s not open to debate

Paris is crying, naturally
Because of the carnage don’t you see
But they’ll continue to be free
And enjoy the support of humanity
We all must ask how could this be
While sealing the fate and destiny
Of those miscreants who **** with glee
And have the significance of a flea







Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015.  All rights reserved.

when will i get to see
a world no longer scared?
scared because it scares itself,
scared because of hatred.

why can't we change the world?
because we can't change ourselves
is it too hard to ask for love?
is it too hard to change?

how did all this happen in the blink of an eye?
how did the world suddenly collapse?
collapse in a way it seemed like it could never
ever be fixed again

where will this bring us?
to a place of peace or war?
where will we see ourselves?
as of now, nowhere *far

triple glaze can't shield the sounds
of laughs screams or motors whirring from
all the way down the street
but
it provides slight relief from eternal goosebumps that grace my sleeves