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May 2017
You cannot see my wings and my true visage would cause sorrow;
In my hands I hold the key that would destroy all your tomorrows.
I stand nearby the President; I’m at his beck and call.
In Life I’m a nonentity, in Death, the Lord of all.
Some think of me as “friend”; my existence your protection.
In Truth I’m just the agent of your mutual destruction.
I am but one of many who carry this dread weight;
the codes for Armageddon that may spell your planet’s fate.
As I keep my silent vigil, the clock ticks towards midnight.
Ignorance and arrogance define your awful plight
I am the fearful Seraphim at the gate of Paradise;
That place from which you were expelled and cannot enter twice.
( The man who carries the nuclear football re-imagined here as the Angel of Death)
John F McCullagh
Written by
John F McCullagh  63/M/NY
(63/M/NY)   
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