Category: Poetry

The History Game

You seem so sure

That there’s nothing you can do

That the stars’ position

Tell you visions that are true

You seem so sure of how unsure our future is

Of how we’ll fight in a war that no one wins

And although we know

We still try

Oh history why 

Why do you keep playing this game with me

Strange Things

Let us fall

Although children we may no longer be

In this skin torn, old, and wrinkly

We begin

Again and again

Like the seeds falling from a tree

Birthed from death

Oh what a strange thing to see

My drifting soul becoming me

Truth

I think it was lost

But no one really knew

So no one ever searched

For what can’t be proved

Numbers and charts that say nothing at all

Misleading us to think that the truth isn’t far

It was written somewhere, but where… I forget

The bible must’ve had it, but it failed to translate