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The nuclear arms produce great loss of life,
Destroying structures miles across, tho’ strong!
And leave behind human misery and strife,
That make generations sing woeful song.
Cities can turn incinerators soon!
Diseases kill the future populace;
The soil’s unsafe; who wants the sun or moon?
No one can heal the wounds or even dress.
A button’s press can bring the destruction!
And insane leaders threaten with their nukes;
The ill-effects can affect earth’s function;
Nukes are Satan’s ideas, born like flukes!
Who would destroy the planet made for man?
Yet, earth will go on as per divine plan!
6-10-2002 by Dr John Celes
Dr John Celes
Read poems about / on: loss, future, moon, song, sun, sonnet, city
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