The Nuclear Eve Poem by Penni Currie

In the distance a lone dog howls,
pitifully plaintive, saliva drips from it's jowls.
Rats scurry along the deserted street,
their hunt for food more relevant than the heat.
Wrapped in rags, a once pretty child,
now dead and discarded,
carrion for the dogs running wild.
From the rubble a movement slight
and a remnant of a man staggers upright.
The shops all looted, their windows broken.
Of the life before, a meaningless token.
Redundant equipment now clutters the street.
No desire now for technology, they only want meat.
The cats are all gone, dogs are disappearing fast.
How much longer can these people last.
Their festering sores, the wounds that never heal
are less important than the mental scars,
the pain that they feel.
Without food they die, without water they thirst.
Of the small supplies left, it's who gets there first.
No television, no phones, no communication.
Now this truly is a divided nation.
No attempts made to start again.
No feeling of motivation, how can anyone explain.
Death came from the sky in the dead of the night.
No message, no warning, no time for flight.
The few survivors of emotions bereft,
dying of malnutrition, of neglect,
soon there will be no-one left.
Why did they do this, this terrible thing?
The mad politicians in their bunkers surviving,
of the ordinary people, not a thought they gave.
Is this the world we want to see?
Buildings ruined and demolished,
the people really free.
No leadership, no powers that be. The nuclear eve.
Total desolation, this is what they would achieve.
Dismantle the bombs and give us a chance
to live in peace and the quality of life would be enhanced.

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