Shrey Rodricks
The mushroom cloud rose over
Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Painful memories
run through generations.
The black and white of doom and agony
is resurfacing again.
Now, another war at work:
shelling, smoke and fire.
Rumbling wheels of tanks,
clicking boots denting streets.
People huddled in basements,
fighting hunger and thirst.
Empty strollers gaping at the sky.
Language transmuted,
with terror as a weapon.
Humanity regressing to its primitive self
as incursion and assault continue.
One man ready to trigger nuclear war
on billions. What if it happens?
The end.
Then a new beginning. Without us.