Abu Jahl must have shrunk in his space-less grave
Lamenting the bad timing of his ludicrous life
Wishing in between knocks of Munkar and Nakir
To have being present in this heinous era
Where his monstrous antagonism of the Man would have
Elicited disproportionate bombs for words.
He would have balked at the crossing thought
Of the superior competence of the imbecilic Egyptian
And his acclaimed achievement and his own forgotten failure
Or how else do you explain his fruitless attacks
On the physical presence of the Man which was only rebuked
And Mr Fool got half the world calling for his empty head?
A wannabe con artist encouraged by a psycho cleric
Brandishing few notes of Mr Franklin and nothing else
Assembled few frustrated wannabe movie stars
And together in a dirty room made a crappy picture
For a computer to manipulate with little changes
That would eventually lighten up the slow summer:
A few dozen saw it and readily rightly dismissed it
The lack of brain and needed talent put them off.
The story should have uninterestingly ended there
But for a zealot who sent it through the air
And another thoughtlessly aired it without care:
And so the undisputed imbecile became a celebrated genius.
The buttoned idiots who knew little of programming
Left their mosques and burned down their country
Killed their good friend and angered everyone else
Nakedly danced to the market to display their dirty yansh
Pic Credit: Washington Post
Just like they did when a beat up drawer
Scrawled some foolish drawing of the Man
And a confused writer in between doses of Strongbow
Conceived confusing work that would get him vicious fame.
When will the robotic mob realize
That this project couldn’t have been completed
Without their willing helpful hands and rioting legs
And it wouldn’t have inspiringly fructify
In the absence of their gargantuan idiocy?