Hate Bomb



Blue sky turns gray
black, a flash, threatening
(non-so early warning)
The bomb has dropped
and in a waking mushroom cloud
bursts all hope, emotion, love...
It all comes crashing down.
Chaos, confusion, the past.
Innocent civilians cry out
the gods of fate:
why, why?!
Nobody knows why
or when they can forget.
-Lauren Guy, 11-12-02


Return to The Poetry Lounge