Who Am I

(Written for both the Boston and Afghanistan bombings) Who am I?... Do I look like a terrorist? Am I dressed like the soldier with frightened hands and panic connected to a trigger? I am just a boy hoping to marry a girl. I am merely a runner trying to change the world I live in... So why would you want to hurt me? Do you assume I want to harm you?... I live in a country that video games learn violence from only there are no extra men. No extra lives or cheat codes to keep me alive. A bomb is much more than the X or O button to me and all the people I care about... Here, I run for causes greater than myself. I run for people who need me more than I need them, and I do it out of love. Love, there is a word I wish I could teach "you"... It's the opposite of what motivates you to push your button or squeeze your trigger of death and destruction with no conscience. The anger on this orb has been foolishly equated to oxygen and water... You know the orb I speak of... The blue one with the soulless men who would kill out of fear and hate, the ones who would murder and sacrifice anyone to have this orb on a key chain. Where I live, people die for celebrating a wedding, the union of two people in love. Where I live those who push their bodies beyond exhaustion for good reasons, die for being people who give a damn... This is the world I live in... Who am I, you ask? My identity is the future... I am only old enough to learn... And THIS is what you are teaching me... THIS is what I am understanding to be "okay". And when you are old, when your family are the innocent lives that could be casualties, You remember who put this evil inside of me. You understand that I will become as you are now, with no regret for killing the people you love more than anything on this damn planet. Who am I?... I am the monster you are unknowingly creating with each new attack. I am the murderer of you children, your family, your loved ones... I am the kid learning that this world can and will either be mine or be destroyed... Of the two choices, neither matter to me. Who am I? I am a worse version of you... Because when I come to age... All that you have taught me, will be all that I care to know... And when those in your heart catch the shrapnel or are blown to pieces for nothing. I look forward to looking into your eyes, I relish the thought of seeing your broken face, And I will say... "Because of YOU... This is who I am..."