Another False god
by Gerald A. McBreen

We suffer
under a false god
A mushroom cloud
whose promise was
to make war obsolete

Always somebody
doesn't believe

Thousands died
not a shot fired

Leaders hang
slaughter blossoms

Trickle-down death
one drip at a time

Cave men rule
terms of engagement

Civilized men can't
seem to disengage

We don't need
anyone to tell us

Every death
every maimed child
is a seed of hate
in the fertile field
of our mushroom god


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