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Histoy's Lament
A poem about how history is forgotten. |
| History’s Lament Symbols painted on the walls of caves; hunts remembered, seasons recalled. Lines etched into baked clay; stories told, legends preserved. Pen and ink make knowledge spread; laws for all to see, wisdom passed from age to age. What went before could be known; lessons could be learned. Eyes in the present now so blind to the past; ignorant of mistakes once made. Those who remember shout their warning; unhearing, youth charges forward into the black. The elders who lived and struggled point to the path; the young go astray. What is past is not prologue; it is now and it is later. Oh, what folly it is to forget; effort, pain and sacrifice go to waste. Lament that fools do not know; what was is, and again will be. |