Deer standing in the street,
Frozen in headlights as we meet.
Hating the world that kill us crying,
Laying bleeding, broken, dying.
Struck by random bullets on the street,
Afraid of everyone we meet.
Syria's dead, the children dying,
None claim the cause someone is lying.
Sarin here, and bullets flying,
Starvation rules and Kings not flying.
Assad rules a broken land,
He does not find a mighty land.
But there will surely come a time,
When his life is not worth a dime.
In the survivors of this fight,
Who working hard do see the light.
Of the struggle there to get the right,
To sleep in peace in the warm dark night.
Who is the deer?