He hides face in his arms as they grabbed him,
twisting, hurting his already rope burned skin,
innocently he had travelled to aged Afghanistan,
guilty by colour and creed he was violently taken,
not arrested, nor accused like hundreds of others.
Guantanamo Bay, a cruel place of tried and tested
torture criminalising good men,
treating them with contempt
and evil won the day.
Lives broken, loving men lost to their families
forced to live now in isolation,
their punishment continues,
plagued by secrecy and doubt.
Evil’s at its best when rabid racism enters
the eyes of the kind hearted,
and fearfully trains hearts to a fear
based on the thought police.
Men who would be our friends have been lost,
peaceable lives tragically torn,
and now will justice come? Or,
like the dew or go early away?