Once upon a time in the barren New Earth,
There lived a Father and Son of no known worth.
Taking an abandoned fortress for their home,
They fortified it against the things that roam.
Many parts were recovered from bits of scrap they found,
Making things useful all around.
Smart was the father, he could make things work,
And when they were hungry they ate beans and pork.
Broken old radios, various equipment and gear,
Hearing communications in advance helped lessen any fear.
When they slept at night it was in an old jail cell,
For you can’t be too careful in this earth that is hell.
Working away at making his guns,
The man called Father does this for fun.
Sonny Boy keeps watch in his perch up top,
If any get too close, they are bound to be shot.
A garage for repairing and making mods,
Father is making his boy a new hot rod.
Outside the base, an added protection,
That guards them both with utmost perfection.
They call him old Chuck and he is a machine,
He attacks anything making it too close as his sensors are keen.
Ripping and tearing he does with his blades,
Then at Father’s feet the remains are laid.
Life is sure hard, and New Earth is tough,
But having a place to call home for these three is enough.
