History Poem by Kevin Patrick

History is the weight of the dead
Piling their wreckage over the living
And leaving us fragments of horrors
That are the salvos of today's psychosis
There is blood in these words of ghosts
Where the pages echo with screams
As its victims are bound to the dust
Through binding of books which do not weep

History is humanities author
Which is read by only a few
Who learn to late the truth
We are animals in chessboard zoo



Still our bloody footprints trespass
Over the deserts of savage futures