The Worst Euphemism of All

The first bomb killed her sister, 
She had to be careful now,
as she clicked the wires into place,
She didn't want to orphan her parents. 
Seamey had told her about the wires,
how the coated strands of red, green, yellow, and blue,
wound into the gunpowder and nitrobenzene,
and how it would all end in an enormous blast,
leveling a city block or more. 

She thought it was Semtex,
But that is a whole different animal.
She remained willfully ignorant of the bomb's
mechanics, possibly to her own detriment. 

She didn't care how it worked,
She just wanted it to work,
this time; 
at the right place;
the right time.

No more accidental suicide. 
No more lost sisters.
Or brothers.
Or mothers.
Or fathers. 

Freedom fighters. 
They are all family,
not by blood,
but by passion.
She Just Wanted cold hard,
Damage,
Maximum damage in the belly of the beast. 
No killing. 
No homicide. 
Just damage, 
Bricks blown to bits,
Concrete turned to dust,
A foolish idea,
and she knew it.
 
Someone just going about his or her business, 
returning to the office from lunch,
or some such thing,
who didn't get the warning,
tended to get blown to bits. 

They may have been friend. 
They may have been foe. 
But when it was all said and done, 
they were just collateral damage, 
the worst euphemism for homicide. 
The worst euphemism of all.

Was it the Brits or the Yanks 
who came up with such terminology? 
she wondered. 
It was all Politics and the English Language,
She no longer cared for either. 
Damage was her new language,
The Propaganda of the Deed. 

She holds the wrench in clenched fist 
and goes to work, 
mind separated from body, 
praying neither are separated from this mortal coil.