War And Chocolate

In an arab village of Christians devout,

Archeological relics and poverty all about,

Is found the house of chocolate, a place of sin,

The strong scent of cocoa escaping from within,

And we burrowed our way into that house to undertake,

The serious task of learning how chocolate to make,

And while the kids busied themselves with confectionary art,

We chatted to Samir about his shop and his ice cream cart,

But Samir had only one question that he wanted to know,

Was there going to be a war with Iran, and if so,

How would he know when the hostilities had started,

So that his village could be timely departed,

The kids had finished the lollipops, chocolate shapes being made,

Whilst Samir estimated a hundred thousand dead on attack and invade,

Iran was very strong and Samir seemed distraught,

We tried to console him, but it didn’t matter what we thought,

And amidst this talk of destruction, I needed a hit,

Of something sweet deep within me, right in my pit,

Nuclear bombs, obliteration, death and pain,

The chocolate the kids were making would not be in vain,

Enough of this talk, what would be would be,

I eyed Samir so that he could understand and see,

That war or not, life had to be coated,

And what better than in chocolate on which all men doted.

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