Dead Is The Hand Of History Poem by James McLain
Dead Is The Hand Of History
During my life I have watched.
Bound I have been by your hands.
Where rivers can not now run wild.
You have you seen whats above,
the low clouds.
Through the rift they have come before,
and where they stopped.
Most do nought but block the door.
History the dead hand of.
Where you dig up the past,
the future told.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
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5/10/2024 4:05:48 PM # 1.0.0.1119
