The Assads go Shopping
Removed from the day to day ghastliness,
The blood, bombs and atrocities,
While they shop at Harrods.
One hundred percent loyalty to the project,
As one event leads to another,
The killing becomes personal
And the shopping has to stop.
Eradicating the germs
Removing the infection
But the disease is entrenched
But gas will liberate
The last breath of revolution.
No shopping can buy enough.
I wrote this about the mild mannered doctor Assad and his English born wife Asma. He who signed the Hippocratic oath to save life and she who likes designer goods from Harrods. He who has killed hundreds of thousands.
I watched the caring man influenced by family to become the hard-line killer – the barrel-bomb expert and sarin gas deployer.
Divorced from reality – it was all about power and sycophancy.
Taking time off from unleashing the dogs to shop and attend opera. While elsewhere his people crouch in basements, shudder at the sound of explosions and await death.
Only the militia who are promised paradise are gleeful. They believe the lies.