Death of Moammar Gadhafi
Standing body to body
in a line of hundreds
maybe thousands
curved and legged like a caterpillar
slowly stepping
one limb at a time
toward a victory, a reward
to prey upon
We are victims and now we victimize him
to take our place
to take our scars
If only we could see his lifeless, bruised body
then we could feel free
In line, we wait anxiously
for death to turn into life
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