As I walk through the White Sands Range,
Thoughts preoccupy my mind.
“How could we not ﬁnd it strange,
That the Bomb could destroy all mankind?
What exactly will happen,
When we test the Bomb today?”
No one, not a soul, truly knows;
No one knows what to say.
I give the Bomb a ﬁnal check
And run tests on the Uranium core.
The Bomb is a marvel of modern tech,
Turned into a terrible weapon of war.
My science has been corrupted
And turned into a harbinger of death.
I worry about the impending destruction;
I need a moment to catch my breath.
We’re all retiring to a bunker,
Inside there is oppressive heat.
We’ve all decided to hunker
Against the rough and dry concrete.
“Less than a minute till detonation!”
Cry out the scientists in chief.
They’re hoping for a brilliant show,
Something that is beyond belief.
- Ellen’s Bakery
- Beware of the Clowns