There were no Charedim who died in Sbarro.



Not even one Chiloni lost a limb, not in Sbarro.



There were no babies of modern orthodox parents mangled, and silenced in Sbarro.



No Dati Leumi families buried and mourn their children, not after Sbarro.



There were no Americans sliced to pieces by flying nails in Sbarro.



Ten year old Yocheved of blessed memory wasn?t French; nor is Miriam her sister who fights for her life. After Sbarro.



Not even one Dutchman was laid to rest on Har Hamenuchot. Not Motty, not his wife, or any of their three children. The day after Sbarro.



There were no Baalei Teshuva who died in Sbarro.



No people who were religious their entire lives, and no one struggling with Judaism.



No die hard pluralists, no doves, no hawks, and no one who was searching.



There were no Sephardim sprayed with tiny bits of shattered glass in Sbarro.



No Ashkenazim groped for a leg that wasn?t there.



There wasn?t even one teenage girl from Australia shattered beyond recognition in Sbarro; and the friend buried next to her was not an Israeli.



There were no Israelis killed in Sbarro.



None were even hurt.



Only Jews.



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The poem originally appeared as part of a longer poetic commentary in Jewsweek.com.