Wednesday, July 19, 2017

History Speaks. Is Anybody Listening?

Echoes bounce back constantly, 
Reminders of transgressions, blind 
Oppression, sad impressions, 
Allegations of what might have been. 
Someone even wrote it down, 
Polished every detail, printed, 
Sold it retail, turned a profit 
Baked in mortal sin.

Prepubescent innocence is quell 
To feed on fervorance, 
And dies e’er it becomes intense 
Enough to feed the quakes. 
And we forget, or just don’t care 
To read the notes of yesteryear, 
And so are doomed beyond repair 
To make the same mistakes.

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