History One Big Echo Chamber Poem by Raymond Farrell

Of course
There's nothing new under the sun
Within the context
It was said
so we are stuck together
On this small sphere
At times nations
Tend to act like a mean drunk
Off drowsy in the corner
Then up they get
Have a couple more shots
And are ready to fight
Quarrel, argue, shoot profanities
Others present
Try to reason with them
But it's no use
They're drunk
Drunk on power
And the madness that creates
Talk until the cows come home
Same old actions
Bring forth the same responses
It's almost somnambulant
One age being a caricature of the last one
Or maybe the one before
Same things are done
The same things get said
People hope things will change
But hope is trafficked in
By those far removed
From the seats of power
Anyway
That moth on the window pane
Has been there for three days
On the first day
He flew up and down
Looking for a way out
Now he is just sitting there
Maybe he has been reduced
To hoping he'll get out
I don't know
If these so-called
Lower forms of life think
But one thing is certain
Bacteria may not think
But they may finish us off
The way things are going
All those MDs
Who thought they had acquired
A Masters of Divinity
Prescribed antibiotics willy nilly
And that may be
The undoing of us all
The bacteria may not think
But have outwitted us
And now some are resistant
To every antibiotic
Clearly, what goes around comes around
Screw around with nature
Play God
And you'll be screwed
By nature in the end.