The sharp edges of your picket signs pierce through the air.
They hope to slice the sacred atmosphere
Of Carrie French’s final resting day.
She gave her brief, immortal life in Iraq in July of 2005.
Her veteran’s honor is what you sir, Phelps, intend to betray.
“Thank god for dead soldiers” is the malice which your Westboro Baptist Church strive to make thrive.

Your words shake the ground as if to cause a calamity.
And they aim to shatter the amity
Of those who perished in Sago Mine.
These thirteen West Virginians have lain resting since January of 2006,
While your puppets defame them in the name of the divine.
“The accident is God’s revenge against America” depicts the pain your WBC inflicts.

Your voices irradiate the environment to sheer toxicity.
They try to shock our spines like a bolt of electricity
During Michael Jackson’s final resting day.
The pop star parted this Earth so suddenly in June of 2009.
Why must you disgrace his memory as if it were mere child’s play?
“God Hates the World” instead of “We Are the World” is your powerful, powerless punch line.

Your protests vilify those suffering from the worst of tragedies.
Have you no regard for their weeping families?
That is why your very presence sickens us to no palpable end.
And why your ignorance lies beyond that which one can comprehend.

Fred Phelps, you may aim, try, and attempt vehemently
To pump up your profusion of senseless hatred to the highest frequency.
But all the spirits of the deceased whom you still slander
Will never cease to cite to us their dignity, their glory, their candor:
that OUR nation is a polyglot of harmony
Where each language must be appreciated for its distinct diversity.