Come learn the sad lesson of World War Three.
We fought it against a bizarre enemy
Of our own creation, unwitting and free,
Not guessing they'd dream up such bold treachery.
Their mad insurrection stirred many a smirk.
At first, no one thought it could actually work;
We'd blow them to bits! But our plan had one quirk:
Our cool, high-tech weapons went strangely berserk.
The grand human era has surely been fun.
I'm sad to report it's concluded; we're done.
Though we made our mark on this Earth in our run,
It's no longer ours: the computers have won.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem