When bombs sit down and talk

Little Hans followed his football
into the thicket to find a
sleeping bomb from that war
that war of our times,times
when we danced in the bar
to the music of the distant gunfire,
a music still lingering in my ears
as I see Little Hans dancing over
his discovery-this reclusive piece
of metal might just be the last surviving
member of a family which wiped out
millions(of lives)
And thus I tell little Hans
how every day we should be reminded
of the modesty of these unexploded
bombs,in the shadow of whose mercy
we live on.
But then I see his blue eyes full of
hope,and I fail to add
that there might come a time
when all those favourite alien archaeologists
of his,
who stop by our planet
will have only unexploded bombs
to excavate.

Inspiration