A Tit For A Tat Poem by Alem Hailu Gabre Kristos

The pot called
The kettle
‘Black! '
The kettle rebuffed
‘Pot, cry not foul,
Nor must you bark,
While it is stark,
You are a sooty reflection
Of a night, pitch-dark! '

While the blood of children,
The fair-sex, the feeble and the old
Is still fresh in their hand,
Perpetrators of genocide
Demand, the less democrats,
Cursed and shunned
From a diplomatic mission,
Must step aside
By humanitarian law
As they don't abide! /