Here is a poem by me. We are perfectly aware of the atomic bombs dropped over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But was that really important? Didn't it result into annihilation of entire townships? This poem asks the importance of the mushroom cloud, the inevitable symbol of nuclear explosion. We cannot cook this particular 'mushroom'. So what's the purpose of such a thing?
The poem is titled the Mushroom Cloud and goes like this:
What purpose does the mushroom cloud serve?
It is inedible, an entire waste.
Poison it is, poisonous taste.
You can’t cook it
No recipe in the books
You can’t roast it
Oh so deadly looks.
Only one purpose it seems it serves
It represents the kills
And it really hurts.
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