Paris
The city of light
Having its darkest night
Since World War Two.

Lebanon
Double the body bags,
Yet no media hags
Turn their heads.

Normal
For there they say
But for Paris nay
And so we pay attention.

Kenya
Syria
Iraq
Libia

A suicide bomb
Over here,
Two hundred dead, we overhear
Wrapped into our daily news.

We pay it
Almost no heed
As the blood drips down to feed
The list of the dead.

We say
It is because we have grown
Accustomed, yet we have flown
Over the Coocoo's best to believe this.

The truth is,
Both for here
And there,
A white life is worth far more.

It is worth
10 Black American lives,
16 Hispanic or Asian lives,
27 Arab lives,
35 African lives,
These numbers
Straight from CNN
And the New York Times.

Do we not bleed the same blood?
Have we forgotten what it is to smile
Such that we cannot see ours are all the same?
What has happened to this world,
Once so gold and bright,
Now a darkened, saddened grey
As it weeps it's tears
Upon the red river
That runs through the valley of fears.