When Synecdoche is a Shambles

there are songs of murder on the lips of men...

we speak in whole and parts,
and dive deep into the heart of a few
to throw hell and humour at the face of many.
how we draw our tongues like swords from their sheaths,
to slaughter innocent sons
for the sins of their kinsmen,
is sadness...
                        shambles...
                                              and shame.

I know a Bra with so much Zeal,
that it has been made famous for its dances with chance.
and this risk becomes the reputation of every piece,
forgetting the fact,
that all Bras don't come in the same size and colour.

a friend spoke of his hatred for terrorism,
and for fellows from the middle east.
but I can only imagine,
how sad synecdoche has driven his rage, to chase threats and ignore traffic lights. we all saw and heard, how a continent of…