The air is dark with ash and smoke,
the cities filled with mutant folk.
The crops grow bent with a bluish tinge,
when an ant is seen the children cringe.
'And what, ' you ask. 'Has happened here,
'to a world once filled with so much cheer? '
The answer, friend, is not so great,
The world is lost to a terrible fate
You see a warning was once ignored
by a little genius who was just too bored.
He built a thing from junkyard parts
then blew it up to make some charts.
He did it again to fill in the rest,
and topped it off with a third nuke test.
Then one last time with no rebukes,
he changed the world with his backyard nukes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a cool poem, keep up the good work....bridgid x