Little John gone Jihad

 his first cry was angry
seeing the world with bright lights
of an operation theatre
he saw his mother limp
blood seeping unto the bed
and the floor below

they took him away the next day
a little baby so innocent
stuck him in an orphanage
until I took him home
he was about three years old
but silent and sullen

I loved him so much
my little baby with the cherubs face
gave him all the love I have
brought back the smile on his face
he was a happy little boy
that picked me wild flowers

then I fell in love
with a man as big as a tree
as strong as an ox
as loving as a puppy
and when he stayed home
My John hid in his room

seemed my big lover
loved too much
and made my baby John hate
and hate deep
one day he kissed me goodbye
forgive me Mama I must go

in the face of my screen
on my lap, my baby John
holding up decapitated heads
in both his hands
they looked like
my big husky lover

they called him Jihadi John
but once he was my baby
just my handsome son.


*this poem was entered in a competition here. thank you for reading*