poetry

I am done.

On this day in 1945, at 8:16 a.m. Japanese time, an American B-29 bomber, the Enola Gay, drops the world’s first atom bomb, over the city of Hiroshima. Approximately 80,000 people are killed as a direct result of the blast, and another 35,000 are injured

I crank up the stereo volume till my ears bleed
Shutting out this world
Where I am supposed to belong, but I don’t
The very place I stand
was destroyed, rebuilt and is about to be destroyed again
Who decided to kill for peace
who chose to die for love
Where did we go wrong love, where did we fall
What have we built
the fires rage after years
we pay for our faults
our children, naive darlings
some can’t walk, some can’t talk
What were we fighting for
Who were we fighting against
The bombs, the tanks, the guns
Someone holds the gun
But a different one pulls the trigger
We are a mess
Of blood, shards of human parts
blown away
for a man’s ego.

I crank up the volume and close my eyes
I squeeze them shut
It is eating us alive. this anger, this fear
Running away from our ends
Mowing down everything
Collateral damages
When are we going to stop, love
How many more bodies are we going to step on
How do we win wars
When we collectively lose

I crank up the volume further up
Until I can’t hear myself anymore
At the edge of the skyscraper
dropping down several feet below
free falling;
like the little boy and the fat man
At least I destroy myself while
this world destroys itself.

I am done.

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