The Ballad of Ibragim Todashev
They
grilled him through the dark of night
And
then they took his life,
But
he was just another Muslim
And
they said he had a knife.
They
shot him all of seven times,
With a kill shot to the head.
He
was about to admit to a heinous crime.
They
say soÉand heÕs dead.
He
scared them with his martial arts;
He
was just too strong, too quick,
And
about that knife they said he had,
Would
you believe a stick?
Just
ask the Pratts or the Trentadues
When
those folks ever lie.
TheyÕre
Whitey BulgerÕs biggest friends.
TheyÕre
the FBI.
David
Martin
Home Page Poetry Poetry 15 Archive Contact