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They shoot poets, don’t they? (For the poet Abdullah Atefi killed by the Taliban, and those left in fear)

He never thought he’d be killed

By words

That freely come to your mind

 

Took for granted

That his thoughts could run free,

Across the city

Climb up mountains

And settle on the land

 

Then one night…

He was dragged out of his bed

And shot in the head

 

Because the stench of death

Has run riot in the streets

The Taliban snuffing out

Anyone...

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taliban

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