Poem: Blast Radius

There's a small circle in the beginning.
It gets bigger and bigger with each ring.
Around and around, knocking everything to the ground.
Gaining speed, the people have all disappeared.

The small circle is no longer a circle but an oval.
It expands, contracts, and expands even more.
The whizzing sound from before is heard again.
Above our heads, getting closer and closer, we feel it.

There's a big hole in the ground.
Just wide enough for hundreds of people to fit.
It looks like a dumping zone, discarded one by one.
Getting closer to the center, looking down.

There's a small circle in the end.
It's done growing and moving.
Nothing else can live and thrive in this place.
Slowing down to a stop, we will eventually forget.
 

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