Enola Gay,
Why did you have to fly that day.
Your captain’s mother’s name on fuselage display.
Carrying hell unleashed in your bomb-bay.
Plummeting down like a cruel bird of prey.
Following military orders you had to obey.
A whole city and it’s people blown away.
And when the smoke cleared all bleak and gray.
Hardly a soul left standing to cry or pray.
And so much suffering for survivors to survey.
To save lives and shorten the war historians say.
For that old adage of War is Hell will never go away.
And.
Your infamous legacy, history will forever portray.
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